The Titans of Tomorrow
by Monte-chan
Summary: Over 20 years have passed since the Teen Titans made Jump City their home. When there's trouble, a new team of Titans answers the call! Episode 5: Robin, Nightstar and the Bat Family.
1. Episode I Part 1

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback**_

I don't own _Teen Titans_, nor adult Titans, and _especially_ not baby Titans. See, once they start teething on criminals, it's a real hassle to get them loose…

Read and review.

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode I Part 1: The New Dawn

With the rise of the summer sun, another tomorrow greeted Jump City. Sol's light and warmth spread over every block, promising some of the city's inhabitants a new start and new joys.

It certainly helped that the city had a group of guardians who made sure the city made it to another sunrise:

The Teen Titans.

While the day was just beginning, however, a challenge was still in progress, last night's obstacles not yet conquered.

"HA!"

One of the Titans opted to face one obstacle with the end of his fist, another with a boot, and another with a metal staff. Such simple solutions came with the job.

Today's job was capturing a band of bank robbers who decided to get an early start to the day. Robbery was usually nothing serious for Jump's resident heroes…

Except that the band of bank robbers was actually _one_ bank robber. Like a past minor foe of the Titans, someone new apparently exploited the power to multiply for criminal ends. He went by the name of "Legion."

Legion wore a cobalt blue bodysuit with a white X encompassing the upper chest and wrapping around the shoulders, resembling the symbol for multiplication. His shoes, matching the suit's color, blended with it almost seamlessly. On one of his arms was a particle blaster, also the same hue. The mask, covering all but the mouth and hairless chin revealing a Caucasian skin tone, displayed white eyes without pupils.

Some of the faces grinned at the thought of making off with millions of creds and spreading some mayhem in the process—and of course, giving more than a little trouble for the Titans.

Other faces twisted in pain, as a flurry of birdarangs found soft spots to strike, courtesy of Robin, the leader of the illustrious team.

The original boy wonder, secret identity Richard Grayson, had led the Titans for over twenty years against threats foreign, domestic, and otherworldly.

The leader dishing out a three-hit combo on a hapless enemy, however, was a different Robin, the elder having grown out of the old name a decade ago.

Like the first Robin's suit, this one featured a red sleeveless vest; the insignia, a stylized golden "R" on a black background, emblazoned over his left breast—over his heart, in fact, a symbol of his dedication to the war against evil. The utility belt wrapping around his waist, filled with crime-fighting tools beyond his brain and fists, was still a shining gold.

That was mostly where the suits' similarities ended. Rather than the green short-sleeved shirt under the vest, leaving the rest of the arm up to the gloves bare, the red vest instead lay over a black under-armor that stopped at the wrists and ankles. His gloves and lace-less boots—the latter planting themselves into a villain's back—were a darker metallic green than the original's, as was the domino mask concealing his serious blue eyes and handsome face passed down by his father. Instead of spiking up and back, the teen's black hair was cut short and appeared tousled. It was sometimes hidden under a black hooded cape with a canary-yellow fringe, though the current battle had removed it from his head.

Robin took a moment to check on one of his teammates. A girl two years his junior donned a royal purple long-sleeved shirt exposing her smooth midriff and a smooth skirt of the same color. The shirt's loose, robe-like sleeves tapered at the wrists by bands made of an alien metal, and similar bands at the knees tapered her thigh-high purple boots. A metallic belt also wrapped around her waist. Crossing her forehead was a diadem, adorned with a purple five-pointed star design at the center. Straight, voluminous black hair cascaded down her back and framed her serious face.

The girl held her fists forward as she plowed down a crowd of criminals. The blaster bolts fired at her merely bounced off her glowing skin, which under the purple aura normally possessed a subtle orange tone. Dodging a swing of a still-shooting blaster arm, she delivered a right palm thrust to knock what Legion referred to as a "Legionnaire" onto his back, ignoring a cry from the shock to his sternum. Her super-strong arms ripped his weapon away and launched it into the sky, where purple beams from her sternly glaring fluorescent-green eyes demolished it.

The few conscious men in the downed crowd stirred again, targeting her for their revenge.

"Great," she huffed. "One laser down, about three hundred to go."

Robin smirked in approval while his staff tripped another Legionnaire.

_Keep it up, Mar'i_.

Mar'i Grayson was the daughter of Jump City's literal power couple, the former Robin and Starfire. A living union of two worlds, the half-Tamaranean had her alien inheritance awaken at an early age, and she quickly learned through her parents' and extended family's exploits that her abilities could be used to accomplish great things. While her father was at first reluctant to introduce another child to the superhero life, he gave in when she was 14, and so Nightstar joined the Titans roster.

Nightstar wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself, but she was partly inspired to join not just from the Titans' adventures, but by meeting Robin years ago when he sought Grayson's permission to take the name as his own. She thought the older boy was a bit strange with his love of wearing cloaks, but she also discovered he was skilled, sure about his purpose in life, and…

…well, he wasn't too bad to look at either.

A certain teammate of hers would never stop teasing her about the crush she'd constantly deny.

Said teammate, a little brother both emotionally and currently literally, stood on the shoulder of a Legionnaire at a height of about three inches tall. The slim-framed, brown-eyed and brown-skinned teenage boy wore a sleeveless shirt patterned with neon-green and black horizontal stripes, similar to the look of his mother. His pants were the same neon-green with a black vertical stripe going down the outside of each leg. Circuits ran through the fabric-like material. His visor sunglasses continued the color scheme in neon-green, as did his lace-less boots, green with metallic black soles. His hair was cut into a bald fade, his favorite style.

His gloves—black on the palm's side, green on the other—sparked with uniquely hued bio-electricity, channeled through metal bands on his wrists. With insect wings made of light, he flew as a shining streak around his opponent, who grasped here and there to catch the annoyance. Finally thinking the fool had enough, he wound up and fired an uppercut to the chin, knocking the Legionnaire off his feet.

Nightstar called out to him. "Are you doing okay over there, Hornet?"

Hornet, real name Martin Beecher-Duncan, was the son of Karen Beecher, the buzzing bombshell Bumblebee, and Malcom Duncan, her portal-hopping partner Herald.

While his looks came from his father, Martin inherited his powers from his mother; wristbands invented by his "Uncle Vic"—the high-tech hero Cyborg—kept his ability to discharge bio-electricity in check. The bands projected small pointed "stingers" to help Martin direct his blasts.

"Okay?" He shook his head knowingly—she was a worrywart as usual. "I could take down these dregs all day!" Hornet grew to his normal height, a sly grin on his face the whole time. "Is that the best you got?"

One Legionnaire spoke from among the remaining dozens.

"Oh, I have more, hero!"

Another spoke. "Many more!"

The multiplying miscreant decided to demonstrate, a dark blue light shooting from himself/themselves, ever more duplicates crowding the financial district.

"ALWAYS MORE!"

Unfortunately, a score of the new arrivals now pointed their weapons at the Titan, who only had one thing to say now as his confident grin dropped:

"Aw, slag it."

With moments to spare, he created an energy shield against hundreds of rounds of blue blaster fire. Over the cacophony of particles bouncing off his defense, he managed to ask:

"GUYS, A LITTLE HELP?"

Before he found himself perforated with new air holes, a dark-blue, yellow, and red blur crossed the path. With a spin, a tri-colored tornado deflected the attack. The streak zipped into the crowd of Legionnaires and swept past each one; though the assailant was unseen, it was easy to hear the rapid repeat of fist meeting face.

Once the crowd was on its collective back, the phantom retraced its steps, growing more solid as it slowed to a stop.

"Gotta watch your mouth out here, Hornet," it—_she_ teased. "I won't always be there to save that bug butt of yours, ya know."

Halting in front of Hornet was a light-skinned girl his age in a costume that could only be described as... flashy.

Yellow lightning still randomly crossed over her slim frame, clad in a spandex-like bodysuit. The sun-yellow sleeveless top of the suit connected to her equally yellow face mask, freely showing her grinning mouth, playful green eyes currently concealed by opaque scarlet goggles, and short red hair that spiked up and slightly spilled over the sides. The yellow went down to her belted waist, save for the scarlet lightning bolt design moving up from the pants to her neck, encompassing the center of the shirt. She wore red gloves fitted to the suit's seam. On the sides of her head, like another speedy superhero, were lightning bolts, hers scarlet and connecting to the ends of her goggles.

The scarlet bottom half merged with the top's lightning bolt and made up the pants. Yellow lightning designs "arced" down her thigh from hip to knee, similar to Hornet's stripe design. Her sneaker-like shoes were scarlet as well.

Draped over her arms was an open jacket of dark-blue leather, thin scarlet borders on the lapels.

Hornet had always found her jacket to be an odd thing for a speedster to wear, but he wouldn't judge, considering his and his mother's fashion choices.

Hornet gave a smile of gratitude, glad that he could keep fighting (and stay alive) for a few more minutes.

"I guess I owe you one… again." He chuckled. "Thanks, Kid Flash."

Kid Flash was the second to hold the name, and the latest person chosen to ride the lightning—not only by fate, but by blood.

After his world-spanning adventures with the Titans, Wally West, the original Kid Flash, settled down in Keystone City, fathering the turbo-powered twins Jai and Iris, tethered to the Speed Force just like him. Iris West held a lifelong dream of racing around the world and saving it at the same time, wearing the Mercury wings of those before her.

When the new Kid Flash made her debut in Jump City, the Titans took notice—especially Hornet, who found her a fun addition to the team, since no one could prank quite like a speedster.

Robin thought she was a little unpredictable, and, while not knowing her past, felt her refusal to talk to her predecessor and parent was suspicious. Still, she was helpful in a fight, as he saw just seconds ago in between defeating more duplicates.

"You bet you owe me!"

"Kid," as she was sometimes called, was also loyal to her teammates, which is why when her eyes widened behind her goggles at something behind Hornet, she moved without hesitation, grabbing him and spinning him around to her position; friction was no match for the Speed Force.

"Kid? What-"

His momentary tingling and confusion halted when he heard a shot go off, and his teammate cry out.

"AH!"

She stumbled, nearly falling into his shoulder.

"KID!"

She winced at both the hurt and his scream in her ears. "And now that's two, heh heh-_ow! _Dangit…" The sting muted her attempt at humor.

He didn't hear the joke, however. With a speed rivaling her own, he left her side and flew fist-first into the idiot who chose to shoot his friend in the back. A right hook with more than enough electricity hit the Legionnaire so hard, his body spun before it hit the ground.

Behind the green visor, brown eyes squinted in anger.

"Don't even _think_ about getting up again."

A pained groan was the reply.

Robin could see it from where he stood—if Hornet was getting more serious, he would need to change things up as well.

"Kid Flash, Hornet: containment!"

"On it!" Activating his stingers, the emerald insect turned to the high-speed heroine. "You up for this?" A hint of worry crept into his voice.

"You know me." She nodded, her eyes unseen but her voice determined. "I'm always ready to run."

Yellow and green blurs sprang into action once more, circling the Legionnaires with shocks and speed that corralled them into a busy street.

"Nightstar, search from the skies!"

"Right!"

She quickly picked up on what Robin meant: there may have been dozens of duplicates, but the original had to be around there somewhere. She just had to find him…

"There! Three buildings north from the bank!"

The boy wonder fired a grapnel gun, removing himself from the crowd of foes and taking to the rooftops.

Meanwhile, the copying criminal cursed his lack of speed in his suit, but clutched onto his ill-gotten gains with one hand. He dared to look back and immediately regretted it—two Titans were on his trail, and they were gaining on him.

Losing his nerve, he fired his gun at all angles behind him, missing horribly. He hurried to plan B, which was a lot like plan A: "More of me will do it!" As he concentrated to create his next diversion, however, he neglected to notice that he was running out of roof.

Legion tripped and, with a scream, fell over the ledge, covering his eyes so he wouldn't see his fateful encounter with the asphalt. He let go of the bag of creds, knowing that it was pointless. No one would save someone like him, he figured. A two-cred thief would meet a two-cred death…

Suddenly, the sense of falling stopped. He opened his eyes.

He was… floating?

"I'm alive?"

Sure enough, about ten feet from the ground, he was frozen in place, both he and the heroes on the roof above in shock.

"Heh… heh heh, I'm alive! I'M ALIVE!" Maybe he had more powers with this suit on than he realized! Cloning was one thing, but flight too?

He wasn't some two-cred crook after all!

With the power of the suit, he was going to be unstoppable!

"Yeah, that's right, EAT IT, TITANS! Now I can fl-"

Gravity and blackness abruptly ended his rejoice.

By the time he returned to consciousness, someone had assisted him to his feet: Robin, who held Legion's hands behind his back and prepared to hook on a pair of handcuffs.

He slammed his head back in an attempt to bash Robin's nose, forcing the boy wonder to back away. The villain pointed his arm to fire his—wait a minute...

"Don't bother with that gun of yours." He followed the voice to Nightstar, holding his removed blaster, crushing it in her palm like so many others today.

This minor frustration convinced her to scoop him up under his arms and stare right into his eyes. "Call off the clones. Now." She started to rise off the ground, taking her with him.

He got desperate. "W-w-what are you talking about? I'm not the original!"

"Are you sure you want to lie to her?" Robin inquired.

Floating ever higher, Nightstar had her own suggestion.

"Or maybe you'd like to take another flying lesson?"

Having acquired a deep-seeded fear of heights today, Legion kept his mouth shut and shook his head no.

"Good."

After the original was brought over to Hornet and Kid Flash, the corralled criminals dwindled to nothing, disappearing in bursts of light.

Soon enough, the Jump City Police were ready for cleanup, taking Legion away to his new home.

And speaking of home:

"TITANS! Another mission accomplished!" Damian would not know this, but he sounded a lot like his predecessor. "Now," he sighed in relief, "let's get some rest."

"I hear that," Hornet joked, "My stingers are killing me!"

"You're so lazy," the red-headed racer remarked.

"Oh yeah? I kept pace with you all day, didn't I?"

"Kept up with _me_? Maybe in your dreams!"

Robin ignored their arguing, thinking about that future nap; even a would-be assassin appreciated some shut-eye. Still, there was a question bothering him.

"Hey, Robin…"

Luckily, Nightstar could sometimes figure out what he was thinking.

"Who stopped Legion from falling?"

He stared back up at the building. "I don't know, Nightstar..."

Unseen by the heroes, two red eyes had ceased their glow. The unassuming figure who possessed them sighed in relief, fading back into the crowd.

"...I don't know."

**To be continued...**

**And with that, a new team of Titans has saved the day!**

**But of course: questions emerge:**

**What happened to the other Titans, the fabulous five from the TV show we know and love? **

**Who's the mysterious person who saved Legion's sorry hide?**

**Where's the beef?**

**All of those questions (okay, maybe not that last one) will be answered in the next installment of "The Titans of Tomorrow."**


	2. Episode I Part 2

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback**_

I don't own Teen Titans, nor Damian's superpowers in the comics… wait, what?

Read and review.

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode I Part 2: The New Arrival

Years and heroes had come and gone, but Titans Tower stayed. Its walls had been battered, its windows shattered, and once it nearly sank into the earth from the actions of giant robotic worms, but the symbol of the team's strength and solidarity still stood tall.

The first owners kept their old rooms reserved (and preserved, thanks to Cyborg's security system), but since the Titans were a global organization and engaged its members in missions abroad, the big metal T was mostly left in the hands of their successors.

In one of the Tower's many hallways, two of those successors related their adventure to a woman on the other end of a vid-phone. "…So we patched ourselves up, and we've been here ever since."

"Well done, Mar'i!" Spoke the voice on the small screen. "You handled a duplicator much more easily than we did the first time."

"Thanks, Mom."

On the inside, Starfire was still the embodiment of joy and kindness she had been in her youth, but she had grown stronger and wiser with the changes of adulthood and motherhood, having taught Nightstar mastery over her physical abilities.

"You should speak to Cyborg and the Flash about their fights against the Billy Num—I mean, against _Billy_ Numerous."

Not even decades of Earth life could completely clean up her English, though.

On the outside were more obvious changes. One was a change to her clothes. The arms were more armored and the purple she once wore was now a darker shade, near black. Her appearance was a constant memorial of the late Blackfire.

Starfire had also experienced a second "transformation" after her teen years. Time replaced her once slim frame with eye-catching curves, and her long, straight hair grew curly and wild. The exotic beauty of the former princess of Tamaran rivaled that of another warrior princess, the ageless Wonder Woman herself.

Robin, having known Starfire as practically a strange aunt, never regarded her appearance in such a way. Instead, he murmured to himself. "Hmm, maybe I should consult them in case another 'Legion' shows his face again." He suggested to Starfire, "Maybe when you're done, you can connect me to-"

"Focus on the present, Robin." Nightstar jabbed his arm with her elbow—perhaps a little too hard, since he felt the sting right through his under-armor. "I don't even know why I brought you with me."

_You may not know, Mar'i, but I can understand why you want him close to you,_ Starfire mused, catching the boy scowling while he rubbed his arm. _They are not related by blood, but he is much like my Richard… especially, that he can be so serious! _"So, Robin, have you been taking care of my little bumgorf?" The Dark Knight's descendant met a gaze and a smile that seemed a bit too curious for his taste.

"Mom, I'm almost 18. I'm not a little girl." Nightstar resisted the urge to pout, since it would ruin her case. "Could you stop calling me that?"

"I am afraid that I cannot, daughter. You know that my English can be 'the spotty' at times." Starfire giggled, a piece of her childlike innocence everlasting.

Mar'i could only laugh with her, knowing that even when her own hair turned gray, she would still be her mother's child.

Robin answered, "Yes, Starfire. I've been treating your," a corner of his lips upturned, "…_bumgorf_ well."

She elbowed him again; he'd lose feeling in that arm at this rate. "You too?"

"She said it first, Mar'i." He looked back at her mother, and spoke from the heart. "She's been looking out for me too, of course. I wouldn't be the same leader without her."

Each heroine felt her heart lighten at those words.

_Much like my Richard, indeed._

"It is always nice to hear that you two are still so close. I think it would break my daughter's heart if you were not there."

Starfire got a twinkle in her eye, one that Nightstar dreaded.

"Did I ever tell you how when you first arrived to us, she would follow you around the tower when she thought you were not looking?"

"_OKAY_, Mom!" Mar'i interjected before anything else could be said. "I think we've talked enough for today. We'd better check up on the others."

"But, I am not-"

"Tell Dad we said hi! Bye!" She dropped the call, making her way back to the living room at a brisker pace than normal, steps ahead of Robin.

She tried avoiding eye contact with the boy wonder in the fruitless effort to seem less awkward. She had been dodging her mother's attempts to push the two of them together for years. Maybe the older Tamaranean saw a repeat of her own love story in the making…

_But slag it, it's __my__ choice if I want to try anything like that with him!_ Mar'i glanced just a bit behind her, hopefully without him noticing. _Besides, it's not like I have __those__ kinds of feelings for him…_

"I noticed, by the way."

Her steps halted. "What?" _He couldn't have seen me from back there!_

"You following me around, I mean." He finally caught up to her, a fleeting, tight-lipped smile on his face. "It was… funny."

"Oh, um, well…" She kept walking, praying to X'hal, her mother's deity, that he didn't see the blush through her hair. "Wait, you thought it was funny? I'm not sure I've ever seen you laugh."

"You'll earn it someday, Nightstar." He patted her shoulder in fake consolation. "Someday."

She couldn't help but smile and look away as she voiced a thought. "You'll have to… stick around until I do, then."

"Of course." His hand returned to his side, now with him walking ahead. "I can't leave this team in _your_ hands, after all."

And now she was angry.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" The young man once labeled a "birdbot" by Hornet had stirred more emotions out of Nightstar in the last five minutes than she had coaxed out of him in three years.

In her mind, she could swear he was trying to mess with her…

_How does he do this to me?_

_It's not like I have__those__kinds of feelings for him… right?_

Before she could ponder that any further, the duo had already made it to the living room door, entering with a quiet _woosh_.

On the other side of the door, Kid Flash (mostly healed thanks to the Speed Force) and Hornet lounged on the couch. The original furniture had been changed out with one made of seats that could attach or detach, for the additions that had come to and gone from the Titans' home.

The TV was still gigantic, the accompanying channels easily breaching past the 1200s (still nothing on at least 800 of them). The hero and heroine had decided to watch, of all things, the news, looking for a report of recent superheroics to pass the time. Instead, a far more depressing development displayed across the big screen television, an aged woman in horn-rimmed glasses continuing her report:

**In other news, the Mankind Liberation Front has continued demonstrations around the White House, urging Congress to put forth a bill to keep what some are calling "metahumans," "metas, or "supers" under control. **

**Gerry Godfrey, head of the MLF and grandson of the famous—some would say, infamous—talk show host G. Gordon Godfrey, had this to say at a recent town hall meeting in Kansas:**

"**More and more of these supers show up from space, from underground, from right around the corner, hiding among us humans in plain sight. They seem perfectly fine with enjoying the fruits of human society—that is, until they choose to take control of things against whatever they deem a threat, smashing up our towns as they brawl in the streets.**

**Look at all these armies they've made! In my grandpa's day, it was the Justice Society. Now there's the Society, and the League, and the one with the kids—Young Justice? Whatever it is, all it takes is one or two of those "leagues" of theirs to decide that **_**we**_** are the threat, and then what? What's to stop them from turning those eye beams on us? Guns? Tanks? How do you stop a walking nuke?**

"**Then they're making more of themselves, trying to outnumber us, mixing us up so we don't know what's human anymore! Just look at them all: Wonder **_**Girl**_**; Super**_**boy**_**; another Flash in California! Haven't we had two or three Flashes already? How many more of those are going to show up, speeding around as we speak? Where are our protections, if some girl in tights decides to zip into your house and empty it out before you can blink?**

"**How many generations, before the **_**true **_**human race is gone?"**

"Change the channel, Hornet," the voice next to him murmured.

"Can you believe this guy-"

"_Now!"_

"Right." The TV went on to the next channel, advertising the newest Macrosoft "Doorways" operating system.

"After all these years, after everything we do for them…" A red-gloved fist clenched tightly. Her gaze pointed down. "They act like we're not even human."

Hornet saw her raise her goggles to her forehead and put a hand over her face. Whether she was wiping away tears, he could not tell.

He hated seeing Kid like this. The last time it happened was when he asked about her family, hoping to compare stories. Those red specs hid her eyes, but on her sleeve, she wore her heart, as heavy then as it was now.

He had to do something about it.

"Technically, some of us ain't human, Kid. My mama's a bumblebee, remember?" He chuckled, but his attempt to get a laugh failed.

"What's wrong with these people? It's not like I asked for this." She raised her now unclenched hand, making it vibrate until it was a scarlet blur. "I was made this way! And just because of that I'm not human? My mom-" She cut herself off.

His interest was piqued at the speedster's sudden silence. "Your mom what?"

"…Never mind." Her anger continued. "But still! Who does this Godfrey guy think he is?"

"An idiot, that's who!" The green guardian answered. "Look on the bright side! The normal folks out there ain't all like him, right?"

He pointed out the window; past the TV, past the rocky shores of the Titans' island and the placid waters embracing it, all the way to the city they saved every day.

"Just look at that town! Jump City loves us!" He nudged her arm playfully with his elbow. "It took to you easy, didn't it?"

"Yeah… it did." Her brow raised in realization. She had to admit, she had taken to Jump as well, the villain problem only an attraction instead of a deterrent. Within the first day here, she'd found every 24-hour fast food restaurant in the city, where she could "refuel" before racing into the fray, and by the end of the month, they all knew her by name. "Like I've always lived here."

"If the whole city doesn't do it for you, you've got a team of Teen Titans all over the world backing you up." He turned his gaze from the window to her. "And you haven't even heard the best news yet!"

"Oh, really?" She humored him. "What's that?"

A thumb pointed to his chest.

"You got me too, Kid Flash."

He took the same hand and raised it before her eyes, green electricity sparking between his fingertips.

"Us freaks gotta stick together, right?"

She raised her hand too, momentarily vibrating the left that reflected against his right.

"Right."

They met in the middle. Yellow and green lightning danced around their hands, yet hurt neither, something they had never seen before.

"Whoa."

"What's...?"

"I dunno..."

"Thanks, lightning bug." She spoke his nickname with a softness she didn't even know she had.

Even more surprising to her, he actually had a comeback.

"You got it, lightning lady."

As both grinned, each found something special:

Hornet finally noticed that her eyes were his favorite color, making a personal note to see them again at a much happier occasion.

Kid Flash, meanwhile, found one more bit of proof that there was more than the superhero gig keeping her around.

Unfortunately, someone decided to interrupt.

"Aww, that's so sweet!"

"_HEY,_ Nightstar!" Hornet jerked his hand away as if it caught fire, sparks literally flying when the two parted; at lightning speed, Kid Flash reset her goggles, hoping they and her mask hid the heat rising to her cheeks. "When did you get here?"

"Around the time Godfrey talked about Superboy." Nightstar frowned. "Just because I'm not all human doesn't mean I don't deserve respect!" Her eyes glowed; her father's inherited temper seeped through. "If a guy like that said one word about me or my parents to my face, I'd grab his tongue and-"

"Slow down there, star girl." As likely as he would do the same himself for the same reason, Hornet tried to calm her down. "He's just a normal human being, as far as we know. No need to rage."

"Besides, we'd still save his life from you," Robin noted. "Even if it's him. We're still heroes, and men like him won't hold us back from doing the right thing."

They all knew he was right. Each person in that room had learned as children that those with incredible gifts and talents had a responsibility to use them to better people's lives, regardless of whether they would get some thanks at the end of the day.

They didn't wear masks and tights for nothing.

As if to break their solemn mood, the screen played the Titan Communicator tune, switching to an important face.

His size was still imposing, and those who did not know him were sometimes frightened by his appearance, but under his metal shell were a genius mind and a heart of gold.

"Cyborg!"

Despite the passing of time, his blue-and-chrome appearance was largely the same, the man in his forties seemingly having never aged a day. The technology under the surface, however, was far more advanced, thanks to an adventure in space rewarding him with a body that wouldn't be obsolete on Earth for another hundred years. "Hey there, Titans."

"Hey, Uncle Cy." Hornet cheerfully greeted the father figure. "How are things with the League?"

Like many of the prior generation of heroes, such as Red Arrow (formerly Speedy) and the Flash, Cyborg "graduated" to the Justice League in adulthood. Unlike those others, however, Cyborg was a part-timer, keeping close ties with the Titans—especially Bumblebee, having watched over Karen and her son as his own family following Herald's death.

If Raven's and Beast Boy's opinions were to be believed ("I can sense both your feelings, you know" and "So, you giving her a ring, or a remote control?" respectively), Karen and Victor were married in all but name.

"They're just fine. Metallo and Brother Blood are headed to the scrapyard thanks to my skills." He seemed to talk more to himself as he thought about it. "Still can't believe those two were working together, but hey, old and desperate…" He shrugged.

Robin stopped his train of thought. "I get the feeling that's not why you're here."

"You're right." The metal man got to the point. "I'm here to tell you that we're sending someone over to your neck of the woods. Martian Manhunter picked up a stowaway on one of his space trips a little while back, and he wants her to get some experience doing what he does. He thinks you four can help her get used to Earth life too."

"If Nightstar and I can get Robin used to humanity, I think we can help an alien." Hornet suddenly felt someone's eyes and a slight burning sensation on the back of his head...

"So when is she supposed to get here?"

Kid Flash answered Nightstar's question:

"Uh, guys, you might want to look out the window."

Sure enough, a dot in the distance grew as it flew closer to the Titans' island home.

Hornet turned back to the screen. "We're gonna have to call you back."

"Right." Cyborg grinned. "Good luck."

The foursome met the being on the roof, a chill slipping through each of them—unexpected, considering it was a summer afternoon.

The person waiting for them was a girl appearing to be in her late teens like the others, wearing a black bodysuit. The top half consisted of a long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves passing over the wrists and onto the hands shyly gripping the ends. A red X adorned the chest from shoulder to waist—reminding the Titans of their early-morning enemy. Connected to the X, a waistband of the same color separated the top from the pants, which was also black and seamlessly met with her flat-heeled, red-bottomed shoes. The whole outfit, in fact, looked as if it were a second skin on the girl, a close-fitting but breathable material of unearthly origin.

The wearer of the outfit seemed to try hiding it and herself, however, with a navy blue cape that reached her knees and a hood over her face, reminding them of an older, bird-named heroine.

"Hello," a voice murmured from under the hood. "My name is M'gann M'orzz."

Before she knew it, a streak zoomed in front of her waving hello. "MEGAN! 'Sup!"

"Actually, it's M'gann…"

"So, if Martian Manhunter found you, you're probably a Martian too, huh? Welcome to Earth!" A hand shot forward to shake the stranger's. "The name's-"

"Iris West."

A rare event in her young life, Kid Flash stood stock still.

"What did you just-"

The hooded head turned to the others.

"Martin Beecher-Duncan." His mouth was still agape from hearing Kid's name, so his jaw couldn't drop any lower.

"Mar'i Grayson." She gave no reaction, since she was already known around Jump City as "Starfire's daughter" and by her first name anyway due to her mother's family outings (though the first avian acrobat never let his last name slip into public; some believed Nightstar to be a full-blooded Tamaranean).

"Da-" A hand covered M'gann's mouth, to her shock; Robin's training had already gotten him behind her undetected.

"Living room. Now."

One claustrophobic elevator ride and very silent walk later, they stood in a place of comfort and relative secrecy. All eyes were now on the new girl who still hid her face, partly out of fear of the one who currently had her in his clutches; he may have released his mouth from her hold, but his presence made her feel like a captive.

"You might as well let her say it," Nightstar advised. "The only one who didn't know was Kid Flash, after all."

He went quiet, as if debating the option, but quickly relented. "Fine, but _I'll_ reveal my identity, not her." He removed his mask also, seeing no point for it right now. Blue eyes sternly looked at the team, more to the newer members. "Damian Wayne."

Damian was the blood son of Gotham City's caped crusader, the world-renowned and villain-feared Batman.

Damian was the result of a tryst between the World's Greatest Detective and Talia al Ghul, the daughter of the genocidal mastermind Ra's al Ghul. After the father's final defeat, Talia sought to reform the League of Assassins that Ra's once led, raising the son among its members as a living instrument of justice. After passing tests set by both Bruce Wayne and the man he once called only "Grayson" (partly to mess with Richard's head), Damian took on the mantle of Robin with passion and pride.

"Huh. I always figured you had green eyes." Kid Flash, who never knew his true name or face, sized him up. "Still, he's kinda cute!"

Hornet rolled his eyes, having heard that before from quite a few girls in town. Fortunately for Damian, a certain purple-loving partner kept his admirers at a distance.

Then the redhead recalled, "Wait… Wayne? As in… _Bruce_ Wayne?" She may have been from Keystone, but everyone in the nation with a TV set knew about him.

The famous figure's son sighed, knowing where this was going. "Yes."

"Whoa. But if Damian Wayne is Robin, then that means…" A gasp. "BRUCE WAYNE IS BA-"

Once again, Robin's hand covered a mouth. "If you ever speak that phrase beyond the five of us or beyond the walls of this tower," his glare, passed down from his father, chilled her bones, "then I will find you, no matter how far away or how fast you run. Understand, _Iris_?"

She nodded.

Attempting to ease the tension, Martin changed the subject. "So how'd you figure that out, uh…" he tried to remember the new girl's name, "M'gann?"

"Well," the Martian fidgeted, fiddling with her cape, "I have telepathic abilities. I can read minds..."

The whole group felt that strange chill again.

_I can also communicate with them._

Robin shook his head, refusing the presence that quickly departed. "What made you think reading our minds and blurting out our _secret identities_ was a good idea?"

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, the loudest she had spoken so far. "I forget sometimes that a minor mind scan isn't a way to greet humans like it is on Mars, and I was…" Unknown to the others, she hesitantly looked over to the scowling young man on her left. "…nervous." She sighed, her figure slumping. "Maybe it was wrong of me to come here."

"It's alright, it's alright! There's no need to be nervous here." Mar'i stepped forward, her mother's compassion shining through. "Despite how _some_ of us may seem," Damian bristled, "we're all happy to meet you. Technically you already know our names, but I'm Nightstar," she placed a hand on her chest, "and that's Kid Flash, Hornet, and Robin," she pointed to each.

"Hello, Nightstar, everyone." She waved meekly, her voice just managing to reach.

"You can call me Mar'i, too, if you're comfortable with it."

"Alright, um, Mar'i."

"Hold on!" Hornet interjected. "If we're going to be saying our real names and all, we should at least see your face."

Kid Flash smirked. "You just want to see a Martian up close, don't you?"

"Of course I do! …What?" He looked around. "I can't be the only one who's interested?"

"Freck no!" Kid turned the smirk into a full smile. "I'd have grabbed the hood off myself, but that would've been rude." She turned to the newcomer. "So come on, Miss Martian, let's see those baby blues!"

"Alright." The so-called "Miss Martian" pulled back the hood to reveal a soft-angled face with a lime green shade, red freckles dotting her cheeks. Her eyes were not completely red orbs like Martian Manhunter's, but instead resembled a human's, with a pair of amber-red irises. Straight red hair parted on the right and fell to her shoulders.

"So… um… how do I look?"

The fastest Titan reacted first. "Aww, wrong again."

"Don't mind her." Nightstar again tried to calm the self-conscious M'gann. "You look just fine."

"Yeah, she's actually pretty cute—_ow!_" A slight whack to the head had the bespectacled boy turn around. A certain girl in red and yellow was whistling not-so-innocently. "What'd I say?"

"Um… R-r-Robin?" M'gann sought his opinion, and knowing he was the leader, she had a feeling she would need his word to stay. His face may have been unmasked, but it was still near-impossible for her to read. She refused to read his mind again, fearing what he would do.

"One of your powers is telekinesis as well?" He said it more as a fact than a question.

"Yes."

"You saved Legion." The boy wonder saw the question display itself on her face, and elaborated. "The man in blue who fell off the building."

"Oh, him! Yes, I did that." She nodded. "He may have been a criminal, but when I saw him, I just had to help."

"What if I told you I let him fall?"

"What?" Nightstar could sometimes figure out what he was thinking—but this was not one of those times, and she demanded an explanation. "Damian-"

"Then I would leave right now!" M'gann's voice possessed a strength she had not exhibited the entire afternoon. "I thought that superheroes, like my uncle, _saved_ lives, not threw them away!" Before it occurred to her, she told them about her past. "I've seen enough needless death in my life on Mars! I won't be a part of that here!"

"Hmm…" Robin appeared to brood over her response.

An amber glare could not penetrate his thoughts. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

He did…

…and gave the smallest hint of a smile.

"Welcome to Titans Tower."

The Martian's anger fizzled. "…what?"

"Other than your personal space issue," he still seemed sore about that, "you didn't seem like a threat. The League's voucher would be enough, but I wanted to fill in some blanks for myself.

"My father once told me that one of the most important tools against evil is actually mercy. Knowing when to give your all against your opponent is just as important as knowing when to hold back. We use these skills and strengths not to punish, but to protect, even when the one who needs protection does something to himself-"

"-like fall off a three-story building."

"Right. Thank you for interrupting, Hornet." He continued. "The point is you'll fit in just fine here."

Her jaw dropped. "I will?"

"And if you're going to live here, you're going to need one of these."

Stepping over to a wall panel and placing his palm there revealed a cabinet with a row of T-Coms. She accepted the smooth square object first with hesitance, then grasped it firmly.

The communicator was one of the first things on Earth that was truly hers.

A grin bloomed on her jade visage, her heart soaring like the ship that brought her to this new world in the first place.

"Thank you for accepting me into your home."

"No, M'gann," Nightstar asserted, "it's our home!"

"Alright, new Titan in the Tower! I'M NOT THE NEWBIE ANYMORE!" Kid proclaimed to the heavens, before getting to her first question... or, rather, a salvo of them. "So, Megan, if I heard right, you're the Manhunter's niece? Do you have any family? What's it like on Mars?"

Rather than inform Kid that her name was M'gann, she explained her story. The planet's inhabitants, it turned out, had lived deep underground for centuries, beyond the reach of Earth's technology; the only reason her uncle had made it to the third planet was due to a Zeta-Beam accident. Her family was stable and its size average by Martian standards: a male and a female still mated for well over sixty years, having given birth to twelve brothers and seventeen sisters. There was, however, a long-standing animosity between the races of White and Green Martians. The race riots thankfully stopped about twenty Earth years ago—

"Wait, WHAT?" Kid's eyes bulged. "Just how old are you?"

"By Uncle's account, I am 48 Earth years old."

Martin chimed in. "You don't look a day over 35."

"Um… thank you?"

"Alright, you two, give her a little space," Robin chided. "We need to get her room set up."

That would have to wait, since the crime alarm chose this moment to blast into the quintet's ears, a red light washing over the room. The TV revealed the enemy, who had appeared in the city park through a portal of unknown origin and, while making a mess of everything around them, preached about "imminent conquest over the fleshlings."

Speaking their twisted message were a trio of large creatures resembling golems, each nearly identical in appearance to the other. Their stoic faces with dull red eyes were carved into pure concrete. In fact, Titans of the older generation might recognize them as resembling—

"Cinderblock?" Nightstar's eyebrow rose in surprise. "What is that thing doing free?"

"Who?" The two newer members had never heard of him.

"Nightwing told us about him. The original Titans fought him way back. Giant walking statue, dumb, quiet," Hornet explained. "But I thought there was only one of him?"

Kid Flash gave her theory: "Maybe they're trying to have a family reunion?"

"I say we ask them directly." Robin's fist met his other palm. "Is everyone ready?"

The leader saw his team:

A child of two worlds, her fists as mighty as her heart was large;

A boy who behind the wisecracks and technology had the spirit of a warrior and friend;

A joker, always ready to jump in feet-first to help those in need, her body literally vibrating in anticipation;

And a new face, a hooded girl with unearthly skills, who under the quiet exterior was a hero in the making, about to protect her new home.

"Alright, then…"

They were a heroic legacy, a force of the future. But no matter the era, a phrase would pass on from parent to child, from master to student, from one leader to the next...

From the underdogs of today...

To the Titans of Tomorrow.

"**TITANS, GO!"**

**Episode I: END**

**And with that, a new beginning... er, begins. Consider Parts I and II my "pilot episode."**

**Most folks probably know about the new Robin, Damian Wayne, who in this universe isn't the **_**fifth**_** Robin, at least. What about any other sidekicks for ol' Bats, you may ask? Perhaps a later "episode" will further clarify...**

**You may wonder why I picked Damian out of the multiple Robins in comics. Well, it's partly because of Nightstar! Some older comic buffs out there may recognize the names of Nightstar and Kid Flash. If you don't, do a little research into the DC Multiverse's "Earth-22." With luck, you'll stumble upon one of the best graphic novels ever made by DC, and a greatly influential source material for this fanfic.**

**You've probably also seen M'gann/"Megan" somewhere too. Not giving you hints on that one!**

**As for Hornet, he is my own creation, but he isn't quite so new, either.**

**For a little more of him and a little more about what happened to the original Titans, check out my story "Teen Titans: Another Time and Place," especially "Universe 3." Fave it, review it, message me, and see if you can get all the references packed inside.**

**Who's next to be revealed for this future world? Wouldn't you like to know!... and so would I. Ideas would be great, guys.**

**I'll see you all next time, Titanic readers.**


	3. Episode II Part 1

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I don't own _Teen Titans_, just a broken Slade mask... I better touch this with gloves and a gas mask on, just in case.

This chapter may be one that really earns the T rating. Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode II Part 1: The R Killer

Night in Jump City meant different things to the people walking the streets, depending on who you asked.

For some, it was a time of enjoyment, to partake of its shopping centers, restaurants, and bars until they woke up with either a pile of merchandise, or no memory of the day before.

For others, it was time to earn an honest living, taking the only or second job to save up for that necessary car, that favorite sports event, or even the futures of their children.

For still others...

"Nowhere to go."

The curtain of night was the perfect cover in which to earn a _dis_honest living.

"The purse. Now."

An unfortunate woman, pressed into a dark alley, her back inches from a brick wall, was learning this firsthand, as a thief was set to get his pay.

"I don't have anything!" The woman's brown eyes watered in fear. "Just leave me alone!"

"Is that right?" Her assailant asked, his roughly shaven face giving a sly smile at an observation: "Then why you holdin' your bag so tight, lady?" The man reached forward for her precious item.

The tension was just too much. "GET AWAY!" She lashed out with her purse, missing his face yet surely getting on his last nerve. "SOMEBODY HEL-"

A backhand cut her off, sending her back a step.

"Quit your screaming!" He saw her body quake from fear, and it only inspired his anger. "I know what'll shut you up."

His right hand pulled out his tool of the trade, a switchblade that despite its use stayed sharp against victims' throats.

"C'mere."

The woman knew she'd be next.

Or she would be, had a voice not cried out,

"Nice knife!"

"Huh?"

Looking up, the criminal saw a silhouette standing against the moon. He could not see the face, but he could see it had a single blue eye, a predatory gaze driving through his own. He was too curious to realize that his prey slipped away, tearfully dashing off into the night.

In moments, the mystery person leaped from the roof, to fire escape, to window sill, from point to point, landing mere feet away from the enemy. Reaching over the shoulder, the shadowed savior pulled out what a sword with a gray handle, the steel shining as it caught the moonlight.

"I have one too."

He gulped. "Th-th-THIS AIN'T NONE O' YOUR BUSINESS!" He cobbled together a brave facade. "Get outta here, you... you freak!"

The blue eye squinted.

A silver flash crossed in front of the would-be thief.

Something went numb.

Something was wrong.

And his eyes found out what.

"Ah…" His right hand (and the weapon it possessed) had dropped to the ground, a streak of blood staining the dirt and closest wall. "Ahh…"

"Aaaa…AH!" His mind caught up with his body.

Then the pain began.

"AAAAAHHH!"

Desperately clutching the rest of his limb, hoping to stem the flow of the precious red fluid, he begged to know.

"Who are you?"

"Well, I would answer your question," the voice hinted a smile, cloaked by the shadow, "But I guess it wouldn't matter. After all…"

The unknown readied their blade.

"You won't be able to tell anyone."

"No… no!"

His cries went unheard under the single swing.

"Oh, GOD, NO, NOOOO!"

* * *

"It's the third time in as many weeks we ended up with a guy like this. All of them had records—small-time compared to what you types deal with, but still."

Behind a boundary of police tape, a body lay in an alley atop a dried pool of red. A slash mark crossed the corpse's torso, covered with the remains of a T-shirt soaked in more than one fluid. Another cut crossed the throat. Surprisingly unharmed, the face was frozen in a moment of disbelieving horror.

"This wasn't from some knife fight."

Robin stood beside a Jump City policewoman, an Officer Kelley, the domino mask squinting as he took in the scene. The Titans had been called in on a case, since the affair appeared beyond the usual street crime. Damian, the most experienced with such an investigation, took charge and went alone. Mar'i was, as always, leader while the others went on patrol.

"You're right about that," the officer grimaced. "It's a downright slaughter. Cut in the front and back, from what we got so far."

"No, I mean the strikes look almost purposeful." The young detective tracked the steps (and blood trail) of the deceased. "It looks like the killer was playing with their victim."

"Sir!" A photographer passed on his findings to the officer.

"Thanks, Bobby." She shuffled through the shots, passing one to Robin. "Check the shots of the back."

"Smaller stab wounds," he discovered. "From…"

"Throwing stars; this time they left something."

The next picture featured an object in the right hand of the deceased: a four-hooked shuriken, its center painted orange, the background to a single, stylized letter:

_R_

Robin's eyebrow rose.

* * *

"So who do you think it is?" Back in Titans Tower, Hornet spoke for the team, together after patrol. The TV displayed a map of the city. Robin stood before the others, presenting the findings, while the others sat on the couch, or in one speedster's case, hung over the nearby chair.

"I don't know." Robin mulled through his memories. "No DNA traces, no fingerprints, and I've never seen this symbol before. The computer's still scanning for matches."

"You don't think it's... you know..." Kid Flash rolled the idea around, "another Rob-"

"No."

The theory fell apart before the inheritor of Batman's patented glare.

The redhead raised her hands in surrender. "I'm just saying."

"I'm thinking…" Hornet guessed, "Red X!" He'd heard of the enigmatic thief through his mother, after a theft he pulled off in Steel City. Whereabouts: unknown.

Kid followed up with "Johnny Rancid!" The old man still caused trouble, but was now more metal than man nowadays after one too many losses and failed experiments.

"Madame Rouge!" Internet theories suggested she was recreating the Brotherhood of Evil somewhere…

"Rave!" The light-manipulating metahuman was considered a spiritual successor to the retired villain Doctor Light—one who had been defeated about as many times as the not-so-good doctor.

"Uhh…" The poor guy was already coming up short on names. "Roxy Rocket!"

"Slag… um…" So was Iris. "Rampage!"

A pause.

"...who?"

"What?"

"Focus, guys." Nightstar cut in. "Do we know anything else?"

"Just that he or she tends to attack in the worst parts of town." The young detective pointed to the sites of the killings. "And attacks people with criminal records, though how the killer knows that is yet unknown."

"Maybe…" A voice muttered.

"M'gann?" Nightstar tried to coax the words out of her. She had been pushing her teammate, now codenamed Miss Martian, out of her shell for weeks; her almost stubborn shyness caused her to freeze-up when a nosy reporter tried to catch her for an interview. "You have something?"

"Maybe the person simply stops them in mid-crime?" The meek Martian suggested. "One of the victims had a knife with the body. Either he was defending himself, or he armed himself in the first place for a different purpose."

"That much makes sense. Even so, why common criminals?"

"Could be for their creds," Hornet figured. "A new guy could want to kill all the competition."

"Ugh, come on!" The racing redhead wanted to get to the point. "Can't we just ask the guy when we find him?"

After a second of deliberation, Robin nodded. "I'm in agreement, Kid Flash. There's a lot of speculation, but no answers right now." He glanced out the window. "But I doubt we'll find the killer running around in broad daylight."

And so, the team leader gave his command:

"Get some rest, everyone…

"At sundown, we start hunting."

* * *

After nightfall, the team patrolled the neighborhood where the killer was last sighted. An initial survey found no signs of a hideout, but it didn't take long to find the mystery person, especially after they heard a scream.

"AHH!"

Robin pinpointed the source. "Over there!"

They were too late to prevent the death of the thief, a woman in her twenties; jewels were strewn around her slash-marked body.

Kid Flash felt her stomach flip at the sight. She'd seen injury, sure, but nothing like this.

For an instant, Miss Martian saw one of her green brethren, eyes staring blankly at a cave ceiling, a corpse being covered by russet-dusted winds… she buried the image.

The Titans were just in time, however, to see the killer flick a line of blood off its sword and onto the ground.

"Wait!" Nightstar's cry was futile, as the person ascended to the roof with a grapnel gun, the Titans following after.

All six reached the rooftops, where Robin tried his hand.

"STOP!"

Just as he began to pull out a gadget to back up his order, the running figure halted. A bad feeling started to stir in the team leader's gut.

The person turned around.

"Finally!" A girl's voice responded. "It's about time you found me. How many more pieces of scum would I have to kill before you took the bait?" She chided them casually. "I thought I'd have to—oh, I don't know—threaten to bomb a city block or something—which would be a bluff, without that kind of weaponry..."

She dropped the thought. "But who cares? What matters is I finally get to meet you!"

Robin asked the question, one asked more times than he would ever know:

"Who are you?"

Peeking out from the clouds, the moon gave the Titans a full look.

The girl was short in stature, but with an athletic frame. She wore what resembled a sleeveless crop top made of a black material tougher than common fabrics. Her arms and midriff were covered in a dark gray armor resembling chain-mail. A bulky piece of armor, also dark-gray, shielded her left forearm, and her shoulders were shielded by rectangular plates. Her gloves, black as well but padded gray on the palms, separated from the sleeves at a dark orange seam.

Her fitted pants were black, sharing the color of her tough-soled boots. The pants and shoes were separated by a dark orange seam. A gray utility belt wrapped around her waist, the same shade as the plates on the shoulders and pads on her knees.

Her mask was her most defining feature: the right side a dark orange, the left side black, it concealed everything to the nose, her chin and black-painted lips disclosed. While the mask wrapped around the head, her hair still dropped from behind in a ponytail.

Her right eye, her _only_ eye, was a chilling steel blue.

"I am the Ravager."

"Stay on your guard." Robin warned. "There's something about her..."

"I can feel it too." Miss Martian's own psychic power detected it, though she could not dig into her mind. It was as if something was constantly shifting about...

"There's something alright!" Kid Flash dashed off, sure to dish out the first strike. Criminals or not, this girl was going to pay for what she did in that alley. "And all she's gonna feel is my fist in her face!"

"Kid! Don't be so reckless!" Robin tried to tell her, but his words went unheeded.

The speedster reared her fist back, but the new girl was unimpressed, tossing a handful of pellets in front of her with a flick of the wrist. Unable to stop in time, Kid Flash's foot made contact, the detonation releasing a surge of immobilizing glue. She fell flat on her back, now stuck to the rooftop.

Hornet checked on her. "Kid, you okay?"

"MMPH! Mm mm MMPH! Mm mmm mm MMPH!" Her mouth was covered, but he could tell she was saying some unsavory words to her enemy.

"One down."

Suddenly, an invisible force pushed the one-eyed killer into the air—Miss Martian's power, her arms outstretched accordingly. Her hands came closer together and squeezed, and Ravager's body tensed under the telekinetic Titan's grip.

A smoldering green glow emanated from under her navy hood, she too unamused by her opponent's past actions, reminded of her home. "Surrender!"

Under the pressure, Ravager responded. "I don't think so."

While the hold was strong, it was not perfect, and one loose hand was all Ravager needed; with just the right angle and a clench of the hand, discs fired from her left wrist's guard. The projectiles exploded in Miss Martian's face, blinding her and making her drop her quarry. A follow-up bola-like device electrocuted her, sending her into unconsciousness.

"Two down."

Meanwhile, Nightstar floated behind for a tackle, aiming for what she thought was a blind spot.

_I've got her now._

She charged.

But she evidently did not have to be seen to be avoided; the girl in the orange mask flipped over the incoming purple missile.

_How did she see me?_

Startled from the miss, Nightstar's guard was down as she turned back, her face meeting a deftly thrown sphere.

"Wha-"

_**Poof.**_

The little ball popped on impact, filling up her lungs with its contents. It took only seconds to discover what it was.

"Knockout—_cough cough_—gas..."

She dropped out of the air, wobbling on her feet at the roof's edge.

"Can't... breathe..."

It was too much.

Robin and Hornet saw her slip...

"NIGHTSTAR!"

…but could only watch as she fell over the edge.

The emerald insect shot off after her.

"And finally, there's you." The single eye stared, taking in the target. "I've waited years for this."

"Well, your journey's over. Whoever you are under that mask," Robin spoke through gritted teeth, "You're mine."

"Then make your move!"

And so he did, the pupil-less eyes of his mask mere slits of anger at the sight of his fallen team.

His first fist was deflected, then the next, then his kick, going for her unarmored arm. She tried dropping the armored one onto his leg, but he retracted in time. A punch went for her left side, her blind spot, but her forearm intercepted, as if by reflex. Her counter punch struck his stomach, forcing out the air in his chest and driving him back a few steps.

"Stronger than you look."

"Stronger than you'll ever know."

They started to rotate, sizing each other up, one of them smiling.

"What's wrong? Upset about your girlfriend?" Her smile grew wider at the sight of his grinding teeth. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't hear her head bounce off the pavement-"

Her arm went up to block a birdarang, then adjusted for the next fist, another punch, a kick, and onward, all moved to the side.

Hornet rose to the rooftop and watched the fight unfold. His visor concealed twin garnet gems clouded with concern. Mar'i was limp in his arms, her skin an unhealthy pallor.

_I can't shoot holding her like this._

As Robin's frustration grew, so did his need to know.

"Why did you kill those people?"

"Those thieves? Killers? Scum? No one would miss them." She responded through the evasions. "And like I said, I needed some way to get you out of your nest."

Ducking a swing of his arm, she pulled out a shuriken.

"I needed some way to have my revenge!"

Her uppercut arced to take out his right eye; his honed reflexes were the only thing keeping his face from receiving a fresh scar. A thin vertical scarlet line manifested on his jaw.

Robin's retreating steps, and a mere blink at the scratch's sting, threw him off balance enough for Ravager to take advantage with a leg sweep. In the second where his back hit the ground and he registered the soft slam, he could not defend from the sword on a path for his neck-

"THIS IS THE JUMP CITY POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" A helicopter spotlight splashed over the scene.

"Cops?" Hornet remarked "Really? Of all the times, now?"

"Interference," the young killer spat, still keeping her eyes on the target. "Luckily for you, I don't want a show."

She backed away, her blade receding from the Titan's throat.

"But the Ravager will have her revenge on you, Robin!"

Her hand raised, yet another ball inside.

"Count on it!"

The ball dropped, erupting in her place a blast of light and smoke.

Quickly, Robin called out, "Hornet, scan for—"

"Already on it… slag it!" One of his visor's special features was useless: "The smoke bomb's messing with my infrared somehow."

The smoke cleared, Robin in the center of a rooftop, a light shining down on his failure, his teammates scattered around him indisposed.

His clenched hand pounded onto the surface.

"She's gone."

**To be continued...**

* * *

**A new villain is introduced. How will the Titans deal with their latest foe? How is she able to handle them so well?**

**And just who is the Ravager?**

**Find out in the second half of Episode II.**


	4. Episode II Part 2

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I do not own _Teen Titans_. I also don't own this wicked birdarang... hope Robin doesn't come back for it... OW, dang it, cut myself on the edge!

No wonder he wears gloves.

Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode II Part 2: The Rematch

_I was sloppy, a rank amateur._

_I took my eyes off her._

_I let her control the fight._

_I should have…_

"UGH!"

Back at the Tower, a young man lay against a wall, slamming the back of his head into it. He held his domino mask in his green-gloved hand. He could not even make it to his room, his thoughts and emotions engulfing him on the way.

_You once told me that leading a team comes with a burden that no one else can shoulder._

_That even the best leaders have to learn to accept when the mission goes awry._

_Even when it affects..._

"Robin?"

_...the ones closest to you._

"Robin!"

_Is this what you meant, Father?_

"DAMIAN!"

Shaken out of his only refuge from the present, Damian hissed out a response. "What?"

"Dame, you alright?" Hornet tried getting through to his brother in arms. "You seem... surlier than usual."

"I'm fine."

"Suuure, you are." He was no Raven, but he could feel that something was wrong. Of course, it helped that he could see it as well: "You took off your mask—something you never do, by the way—and for goodness' sake, you're wearing your hood indoors!" The green-and-black guardian took a quick peek under it, noticing the wear carved into the boy wonder's face. "Have you even sat down since the fight?"

He responded the same way his father once spoke to his own partners over the years:

"I'll sleep when I'm done."

"C'mon, Dame." He spoke almost as if she would walk through the door any second. "She'd want you to rest."

Damian blocked out the appeal, activating his communicator. "How is she, M'gann?"

"_That wasn't simply knockout gas Nightstar inhaled; that was poison." _The Martian medic was a quick study thanks to some telepathic sessions with Hornet, who had learned in turn from Cyborg, the creator of much of the Titan's infirmary._ "__Even with her half-Tamaranean physiology, she was seriously affected. She's been waking up for a few seconds at random intervals, so I think she's trying to fight it, but it seems it will be a while before she can move fully on her own."_

"Update me on any changes."

"_Of cou-"_

He cut the call.

"I get it, man. The fight went south. We were all there." It could have gone worse, but Martin refused to think about that. "And Mar'i? She's always been like a cousin—or a big sister—to me. I know how you-"

"If Iris was in that room and she _couldn't wake up_, how would you feel?"

"Woah, hold up!" The normally cool-headed boy felt a spark of anger alight from the low blow. "Don't bring her into-"

"Whatcha guys talking about?" One of the girls in question strolled towards the boys, picking off the mostly dried remains of last night's encounter.

"Oh, hey, Kid." The spark flickered out. "Just talkin' bout Mar'i."

"Oh." Her countenance fell. "She's taken some hits, but I've never seen her like this before." She knew as well as Hornet that Robin would be taking it pretty hard. "You okay?"

"I'm _fine_." Despite the obvious, his tone left no room for argument.

Kid backed away slowly before his dour atmosphere sucked her in. "Well, excuse me for trying to help." She continued past them, in the direction of the infirmary, causing Hornet to pick up on something.

"Hey, Kid, you got something in your…" He pointed, a small chuckle in his throat.

"What?" The young speedster reached behind her head, eyes wide at hearing a wet _squelch_. She pulled her hand back, greeted with a long strand of sticky red-orange residue covering her glove. "Aw, come on! It already took me an hour to get this goop off my costume!"

"Hmm, I don't know," He jibed, stroking an imaginary beard in contemplation. "It _is_ kinda your color."

"Shut up." She punched his arm, which did nothing to stop his laugh. "If you excuse me, I'll be in the shower—probably until New Year's." She quieted, remembering why she came this way. "Call me when…" Her eyes flickered down the hall, "when she gets better, alright?"

She disappeared in a streak going to her room, leaving the boys alone.

Over the silent journey to the living room, both heroes came to find that, regardless of the team's current number, the question of what came next would continue to hang over their heads.

Interestingly enough, it was not Robin who brought up the topic, but Hornet.

"It's crazy how good Ravager was," he remarked as he took a seat. "It's like she could see all our attacks coming."

"I've been thinking about it and… that's not entirely impossible," Robin went over the battle in his head, still standing. "If she can see the future, or sense danger somehow, then there's one explanation for how she could defend her blind side, even from the air."

"You think she's a meta?" Martin hoped not; folks like him got enough bad publicity without some masked killer making it worse.

"She could be. It's just as likely she's a science experiment gone wrong... or gone right," he mused. "I'm not sure which is worse."

"Great, a psychic _and_ a psycho."

"Okay then... it's time for a change of plan," Robin's hand went to his chin. "Attacking head on just makes it easier for her to evade. Attacking from behind..."

* * *

_**Mar'i, falling out of the sky, falling off the roof, still falling...**_

* * *

"...doesn't work. We need a way to get past that armor and her power or skill, whatever it is, and stop this—tonight." He frowned in deliberation. "We need an edge."

"But how do you get under the mask and into her head?"

_Under the mask..._

"That's it! Her identity is the key," Robin proclaimed. "If we know that, we can know her. If we know her, we know her weakness."

Now the new question to drive them on:

"But just who is the Ravager?"

A new voice responded.

"Maybe I can answer that."

The man who spoke had just walked through the door minutes ago. His hair was just like his daughter's: black, straight, and falling half-way down his back, a few strands in front grown a few inches past his chin. A black domino mask with pupil-less eyes formed a V-shape over his face. The belt housing his gadgets and the armor over his forearms were colored silver, as were the soles of his boots. His body, tight muscle shaped by a childhood of acrobatics and a career of heroics, was clad in a black sturdy synthetic material, its most distinguishing feature a blue bird symbol stretching over his chest.

After seemingly losing Cyborg on his space adventure with Jarras, the very first Robin realized how much he had lost and gained in his life: losing his parents, but finding a different family, friends, a loved one... and more importantly, he realized how much he had grown. He changed his persona to reflect the changes in himself, adopting the name:

"Nightwing."

"Hey, everyone." The first boy wonder nodded to his successor. "I figured I'd check in on you all since it looked like M'gann answered Mar'i's call from the infirmary. Need some help?"

"We could use a lead. You know the name?"

"I haven't heard or spoken that name in years, but I'm familiar..." An old memory surfaced, a white-haired beauty in his room, with a dagger _and nothing else_, "more than I'd care to be." He shook it out of his head. "Let's get the others together, because you'll all want to hear this."

A quick stop to Kid's room and to Mar'i's bedside later, he began.

"Let me tell you a story..."

* * *

Again, night fell. Again came more ends and beginnings for millions of Jump's citizens.

And again, a citizen was in need of help.

"Just leave me ALONE already!"

This time it was a brown-skinned teen in a baseball cap and big jacket, surrounded on both sides by two girls with trouble on their minds and danger in their eyes.

"Now why would we do that, when you were so much fun to pin down?" The brown-haired one replied, an alto voice cracked by violence grating the boy's ears.

"Yeah, he sure was, sis." The red-haired girl slammed her fist to her palm, cracking her gloved knuckles. "But now, you're gonna give me my prize: everything you got."

"Speaking of fun..."

Another girl stepped into the alley, one blue eye staring at her latest source of amusement.

"It's been a while since I had a two-for-one deal."

"Who the freck is she, sis?" The redhead stood dumbfounded at this stranger's appearance.

"I dunno."

"You won't need to know anything when I'm done with you." She rotated her shoulder, getting it loose. "After last night, I've been feeling a bit repressed, so I'm gonna enjoy myself a little."

"I dunno about that," the boy called out, causing a foreboding feeling in the back of the would-be killer's mind.

The gruff voice of the brunette suddenly changed into one of a high pitch, slightly more familiar:

"I think the fun's over... Ravager."

"What?"

The "victim" suddenly smiled.

"Surprise!"

The boy tossed off his hat and jacket, revealing the face and costume of none other than Hornet.

The red-haired delinquent spun at dizzying speeds, stopping in the form of Kid Flash.

The brown-haired teen shifted shape, clothes and all, into Miss Martian.

Ravager came to one conclusion:

"A trap."

She fired her grapnel gun and shot off to the nearest roof. Kid Flash, running straight up the wall, met her at the top.

"Hey, where ya goin'? I thought you wanted to have some fun?"

"Guess we're just not good enough for her." Hornet piped in, floating behind the Ravager.

"So, you think you've caught me with one little trick? Is that your plan?" Her hand met her hip. "I've beaten you all before."

"That may be true," Miss Martian replied, "but we aren't here to stop you."

She pointed.

"He is."

A hooded figure stood with his back to the moon, the shadow concealing all but his white pupil-less eyes. The figure yanked off his covering to reveal:

"Robin."

"Round two, Ravager."

"Alright then." Her hand reached for her sword. "But I want to continue where we left off! And I get to make it last!"

"Fine." He slammed his fist to his palm, wanting to take her down with his bare hands. "I'll defeat you all the same."

"Like last time?"

Her barbs did not pierce him. "My promise still stands."

"Then we'll put it to the test..." She bared her blade. "...once and for all!"

They charged, meeting in the middle.

A silver swipe missed, a green-gloved punch countered but missed.

Her elbow struck his gut, but the sword that followed was caught on his glove's forearm razors. He pushed back, convincing her to break the hold, but she evaded his roundhouse kick with a backward bend, turning her retreat into a handstand and springing forward with both feet. She made contact, a blow to the jaw that would have knocked lesser opponents out on their backs. Indeed, he did fall, but stayed conscious.

Despite the pounding in his ears, he still managed to hear her mocking laugh.

"To think that you're the reason I exist?" She sneered as he rolled upright. "You're pathetic! Just like that girlfriend of yours I gassed!"

Kid Flash's frowning face bore a mixture of wrath and worry. "We gotta get in there!"

"No way, Kid." Hornet's words prevented her stride. "We'd just mess this up."

"We already promised him." Miss Martian stared at the battle. "It's something he has to do on his own."

Robin told them this away from Nightstar's ear. He couldn't afford to let any attachment stir him now. He would force down the anger that boiled thanks to Ravager's ridicule.

He had to wear her down…

"Don't worry. I'll be just fine."

"Fine?" Ravager scoffed at his seeming delusion. "Don't you get it yet? I see all your moves!" The clashes continued, before she leaped back.

"There's nothing you can do that I can't counter!"

Pointing her guarded arm in his direction, she fired three shuriken bearing her R design for Robin to block, distracting him just long enough for her to get in close. Robin's counter-swing smugly side-stepped, the one-eyed killer sent a boot to his stomach, followed up with a fist meeting his face.

"I'm the Ravager!"

"Fine. I'll admit it." He wiped his lips, a bit of blood drawn from a bitten tongue. "You're not a bad fighter. In fact, you're probably one of the best young fighters I've ever seen."

She came at him, a dodged swing.

"But are you really worthy of that name?"

Her sword made another pass for his head…

...when the young boy wonder unleashed an attack of his own.

"Or did you just steal it from the _real _Ravager?"

A moment of hesitation:

"...What?"

* * *

"**...about a girl named Rose."**

**Nightwing told his tale.**

"**Rose was the daughter of Slade."**

**While Hornet went stiff, Kid Flash was clueless. "Slade?"**

"**One of the worst enemies the founding five have ever faced. Only the Brotherhood of Evil had given us so much trouble—except he made it personal. He was a monster." The elder stared into his memories:**

**A suit of orange and black, a metal S on the left breast—a perfect fit for his younger self;**

**A girl wrapped in bandages and armor, her eyes a sadistic glowing gold as she hurled earth at the people she once called friends;**

**Another girl, running beside him in a time-frozen city from an implacable ghost of her past;**

**A one-eyed man, surrounded by creatures of molten rock, his hands wreathed in flame, an icy focus in his dark soulless eye...**

"**Slade fought us to the edge of life and death, and he's actually come back from the latter."**

"**And you're telling me that guy had a kid?" Hornet responded in disbelief. He'd heard stories of the villain's losses, but never of his legacy.**

"**Two, actually, but we didn't learn that Jericho was his son until much later." Nightwing got on topic. "Anyway, Rose was something of Slade's... apprentice," his gut churned stating that word, "following in his footsteps. Like I said, he actually died once, fighting the founding five and our old teammate Terra. Apparently, Rose had heard of his death, and though she couldn't have Terra's head, she still wanted revenge."**

**Robin filled in the blank.**

"**On you."**

"**On all of us, but especially me."**

"**So you defeated her?"**

"**There's more to it than that, Kid Flash." The avian acrobat continued. "You see, I found out she wasn't as certain of her mission as she thought. Without her father around, she only had his last wish pushing her forward. So I asked her, if she ended all five of us Titans then and there, what next? But she didn't know."**

"**Huh, took her down by talking."**

"**In a way, yes. All she knew was doing what her father wanted. She never had a life of her own... so I offered her a chance to make one."**

"**You mean..."**

"**That's right, Robin," Nightwing nodded. "Ravager was a Titan."**

* * *

A moment was all Robin needed.

He was on the attack now, a vengeful punch jarring her mind back into battle. She stumbled backwards, stunned for more than one reason.

"You... you actually hit me..."

"I know you're not Ravager. Not the first one, anyway." He suppressed the small sense of satisfaction he got from her blatant surprise. A small consolation prize for what she'd done. "So the question is: Who are you? Her child? A clone? Some copycat wanting to feel important?"

"I _AM_ RAVAGER!"

* * *

"**Ravager was a strong fighter, but Rose was... unstable." Nightwing went on. "She kept pushing the boundaries as she went on, injured villains one too many times, and when it came to me..." He appeared to fight an urge to shudder. "Let's just say her intentions changed a lot from that first day. I thought she felt alone, and simply came to trust me over the others, but I didn't know how deep her feelings really went."**

"**Auntie Star **_**and**_** Ravager wanted a piece?" Hornet commented. "I'm kinda impressed." A red and yellow blur suddenly whacked the back of his head. "Ow!"**

"**The problem was that I was with Starfire at the time, though that didn't stop Rose from trying to impress me. When she eventually told me how she felt, I refused her, and she didn't take it well. She decided to resume her original mission where she left off."**

**He could see her mouth the words even now.**

"**She said, 'I'm doing it for me this time.'**

"**So I faced her myself. It was a tough fight, but I'd faced her father before, and I beat her just the same. She left the city after that. I found her Titan communicator smashed to pieces back at the Tower door."**

"**I haven't seen her since."**

"**No wonder I couldn't find a match on her." Robin realized. "She wasn't in the criminal database at all, because Ravager was one of us."**

"**I had her scrubbed from the Titans roster too," Nightwing elaborated. "As far as I was concerned, she was never coming back." He gave a morose chuckle, a hand brushing his daughter's hair from her face. "But I should have learned my lesson after Slade returned: someone with unfinished business can always come back to haunt you."**

"**Would she come back as a woman who looks about Mar'i's age?"**

"**Well, she was human as far as I know, so no, not without some sort of technology or magic," the elder avian replied, "Which means..."**

* * *

"You're just a little girl in a costume," Robin stood back and scoffed, "carrying on an old woman's obsession."

"I'm still the girl who beat you!" A downward swing, blocked by interlocking arms, the short curved razors on his gloves again grinding metal against metal. He let go, rolling back, taking her body rolling with him. Both quickly recovered to her feet.

"Beat me? Please. You just waited for us to strike first, and instead of finishing me off, you ran when things got tense."

He gave a false gasp.

"Wait, that's just what the _real_ Ravager did years ago, isn't it?" He could see the so-called fake gritting her teeth, as he had done in their battle before. "When things got tough... no, when she _couldn't beat Robin_, she ran, like a coward." A rare smile spread on his lips. "Maybe you two are more alike than I thought!"

"W-w-we're not! I'm... I'm better than her..." Her weapon and her words seemed to lose some of their sharpness as her hands began to shake. "At least… I will be! I'll show her I am, after I cut you apart!"

She tried to back up her promise, her attacks more bloodthirsty by the second. All the same, for every foot, or fist, or deadly edge that came his way, a hand or forearm gently deflected them, returned with a glancing strike. Her rage, her insane need to win, drowned out her sixth sense.

"Why can't I hit you!?"

"It's simple, you fake." The word drove another knife into the psyche. "I can see through your moves."

"You... can't!" She continued to crack. "I can't be beaten! The only one who can beat me is..."

_All the pain I suffered..._

_The risk to my life, just so I could pull out my power..._

_For nothing? I had him back then... so how...?_

_How?_

_HOW?_

"YOU CAN'T!"

She lost all control, charging at him with the intent to skewer his heart on her sword.

"I think you're the one who doesn't get it!"

Her attempted attack sent her right where he wanted her, his elbow meeting her face. He did not let up, a left fist crossing her jaw, then a right, and a jumping knee rocking her head back and dulling her senses.

"You're just an imposter. But me?"

Still shaking off the onslaught, she was unprepared for the bola-like restraints that wrapped around her form, shocking her like the tool that trapped Miss Martian in their previous fight. Her pained struggling only made her topple, until she fell face-down onto the rooftop.

"I was born for this."

Robin turned the Ravager over, bound from shoulder to feet. Her mask removed, two unscathed blue eyes angrily stared back.

"You aren't even missing an eye. You're a fake all over."

"I'LL KILL YOU!" He stepped back and looked at her. "Once I get free…"

As she went on with her struggles, he considered knocking her out. It would be more than a killer like her deserved. Were he taught under his grandfather's ways, he might have considered silencing her forever—but he was a Wayne by blood, not just an al Ghul.

And the boy wonder saw a defiance in her eyes, even in the face of failure…

A defiance a twelve-year-old boy once possessed, proclaiming threats of pain against the rival who beat him.

He could have sworn he saw himself, what he might have become if molded by the wrong hands.

When he blinked, he was no longer in the Batcave, with something to prove.

No, he was in the here and now, and he needed to call the Jump City police...

...when a red flash (and not the superhero) appeared behind him.

"You did good keeping my little Roz in line." A woman's voice praised.

Robin turned around to find a light-skinned woman dressed in a red and black battle suit, red plates of armor on her forearms. A red stripe came down from right shoulder to waist, the top and bottom of the suit separated by a red utility belt. The black pants were covered just below the knee by red thigh-high armored boots. Strapped to her back was a pair of swords, each with a black handle and red hilt. The curves caressed by the suit were sculpted by years of, as she would put it, doing a lot of jobs for a lot of money.

White hair, smooth like her contemporary Nightwing's, draped just past her shoulders, a background to a pair of steely blue eyes that sparkled in amusement. The only mar on her beautiful face was a vertical scar crossing over her left eye.

"Nice job, kid."

"Rose Wilson, I presume." Robin's glare could melt a glacier. "And I'm not a child."

"And neither am I!" 'Roz' squirmed in her restraints. "Get me out of this!"

"You little troublemaker." The woman's gaze locked onto her defeated daughter, her smile vanished. "I leave for one job in Venezuela, and you think you can run off wherever you want?"

"But it's him! It's Robin!" She pleaded. "I was going to beat him, just like you always wanted!"

"I wasn't right in the head back then, Roz. What was done to me stuck for so many years, even when I was training you... it twisted me up. Your grandfather's to blame for that." She shook her head. "I'm starting to wonder if he got to you somehow… that man never could stay dead." She dryly chuckled. "Or maybe it's in my blood."

"But I have to do it!" The resistant steel in her eyes was now malformed not by the heat of a hard-fought defeat, but the humiliating, lonely chill of desperation, the spark of a child struggling to stand up against Rose's will. "I HAVE TO-"

_**SMACK.**_

Kid Flash gave a breathless "woah" while Miss Martian winced at the sound.

"THE FEUD IS OVER, ROSALIND! I left it behind—and you should too, since Robin clearly won here." Rose's hand still hung in the air after the strike. "Now, we are going home, and you are going to get a lesson in obedience." She placed a hand on her child's shoulder.

"Hold on!" The Titans' leader grabbed the white-haired woman's arm. "She's a criminal. She needs to be held accountable."

Her expression went unchanged. "What did she do, kill some dregs on the street?"

Kid Flash voiced her thought. "How did she-"

"I can tell her handiwork, girl." Rose rolled her eyes. "She shouldn't have done that to get your attention, and _definitely _not for free." The assassin's glare fell upon her apparently unworthy successor, who seemed to wince as if burned by a branding iron's touch. "Like I said, she'll learn."

The glare then locked onto the boy in her personal space.

"Now get your hand off me," her free hand's fingers graced a sword handle, "before I cut it off."

"Looks like we're getting a fight in after all." Hornet's fingers sparked as the others readied to attack...

…until Robin gave the order.

"Stand down."

He let go, stepping back.

"You really are just like he said, Rose."

"Oh?" The brow over her scarred eye rose. "So the old Robin still thinks about me, eh?"

"He said you were unstable."

"I'm better."

"Then how was she before?" Kid Flash whispered.

"You tell him I said hi, kid." She winked, strangely back to her smiling self. "Maybe we'll meet again."

Rose touched her belt, the red button in the center spreading its glow over her and her daughter.

In a scarlet burst, they were gone.

Robin's body chose this moment to let the pain kick in; Kid Flash came to his side. "You let her go?"

"It wouldn't be worth it." He sighed. "I get the feeling Rose might have taken us down if she wanted."

"So what do we tell the police?" She asked. "Didn't they ask us to find out what we know?"

"We tell them that we stopped their 'R Killer.' It's as simple as that."

"Just realized," Hornet shook his head at a depressing thought, "The citizens might not even care if those people died, or even know they existed."

"Maybe. But we'll know, and soon enough the police will too." He stared into the night. "And we know who she is now. If this new Ravager ever comes back, we'll be ready."

Such a task would be for another day. For now, there was one last thing to do:

"Titans... let's go home."

* * *

In the infirmary, a soft baritone voice carried through the quiet.

"Mar'i."

"Hey, Damian." A tired alto voice croaked in response.

"Hey, Mar'i." A hand placed a gentle grip on another.

Somehow, she just knew why he was here. "Did we win?"

"Yes. We won."

"Good."

A pause.

"And Damian? I'm sorry I-"

"You don't have to be sorry for anything." He squeezed her hand. "Just rest, and get well soon."

Her hand squeezed back.

"Okay."

A yawn.

"Good night, Damian."

The door opened.

"Good night, Mar'i."

And closed.

**Episode II END**

* * *

**Whew, that one was a trial! Fight scenes are still hard for me—how do TV writers do it?**

**In case you're wondering why I used a different face under the mask of Ravager, it's because there is in fact a Rose Wilson in the **_**Teen Titans**_** universe, according to the **_**Teen Titans Go! **_**(TTG) comic book series that accompanied the original TV show (see issue #49: "Legacy"). As in my story, she sought revenge and was brought to the side of good in the same issue, but the result of that was never explored, giving me room to fill in blanks.**

**Those familiar with Rose Wilson pre-New 52 know that she's been through a LOT—there's a reason her costume's mask only has one eye, for example. While Rose didn't have the same obsession with Robin as in this story, she has interacted with three different Robins: Richard Grayson, who as Nightwing contributed to her conversion to the side of good; Tim Drake, including a memorable scene in **_**Teen Titans: One Year Later**_** involving Drake's room, handcuffs, and Rose in nothing but an eyepatch...**

**...and, to my surprise, Damian Wayne! Pre-New 52, it seems that Robin and Rose actually had a friendship going ("Hey, my mom's an assassin, your dad's an assassin, so let's be Facebook friends!" Just kidding). They haven't met in the New 52, to my knowledge.**

**Rose's look is inspired by her New 52 version to represent a life outside of heroics and into mercenary work, while the look for Rosalind (Roz) Wilson, as a sort of Ravager knockoff, is a combination of Rose's classic comic appearance, Rose's TTG comic appearance, and Rose's appearance in the TTG TV series episode "Cool School."**


	5. Episode III Part 1

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I don't own _Teen Titans_, nor the graphic novel that gave me a name in this chapter.

Thank the Pantheon for public libraries.

Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode III Part 1: The Boy from Metropolis

One of Jump City's strongest attractions was Pérez Plaza, a shopping center sprouting up sometime after the first Titans returned from their battle against the Brotherhood.

Two great rows of local and chain businesses stretched down the hallway to meet a Stacy's department store, a skylight allowing the late summer's sun to brighten the path.

Out from Stacy's came two teens with bags in their hands and smiles on their faces.

One was a dark-haired girl with fluorescent green eyes, in a blouse, capri pants, and loafers. Her clothes were all varying shades of purple, her favorite color. Her skin suggested a Caucasian appearance, but with a light orange tinge.

Her friend, a girl with amber-red hair and eyes, wore an open yellow short-sleeved cardigan with a white T-shirt; her skirt the same hue. Her headband and pair of flats were black, her white socks stopping just below the knees. Her skin was a bit pale (and lacking orange), her cheeks dusted with red freckles.

"Thank you so much for bringing me here, Mar'i!"

"It's no problem, Megan. You haven't lived in Jump City until you've shopped downtown."

In a departure from the previous generation's habits, the Teen Titans of today sometimes preferred to experience their city out of costume. M'gann, so as not to draw attention to herself, used her power to change shape and created the identity of "Megan Morse," a formerly out-of-town acquaintance of Mar'i, the town favorite.

"These clothes are nice, but you didn't have to buy all of them for me. I have my own funds," the alien in disguise explained. "Plus, my suit is organic. I don't need anything else."

"Nonsense!" The girl in purple rebuffed. "No girl, even if she's from another planet, should have only one outfit in her wardrobe. And besides," she playfully shoved Megan with an elbow, "you're part of the gang now. Doing things for my friends is what I do."

Mar'i was known to be a big spender, especially on her friends—she was the one who covered the costs of a portable carrying device for Kid Flash's suit. It helped that her father was able to pull from an account set up by his former caretaker, Bruce Wayne.

"Well, if you're really being charitable..." Megan looked away, hoping to disguise her urge. "Do you think we could head back to that cake shop?"

"You ate that whole bag already?" Mar'i laughed. "Wow, you must really like Chocos."

"Uncle likes them too," the Manhunter's niece recalled him sitting casually beside a stack of the cream-filled chocolate cookies, "but he never shared them with me, so I got curious." Her face brightened with delight. "To think they were this delicious!"

"I loved them when I was a kid." She started to wonder if it was an alien thing, before another thought came to her. "Maybe I'll get some for Damian too, for when he comes back. He wouldn't say it out loud, of course, but I know he's got a sweet tooth." Her smile faded. "I hope his mission's over soon."

"You must really like Damian." The girl in yellow announced, playfully echoing her friend's words.

She did not catch the humor. "I do."

The next few seconds were silent.

Mar'i's mind replayed Robin on his R-Cycle, riding off the bridge, out of the city, away from her. He had told her the reason he was leaving was a Bat-Family problem, and left her in charge once again, but no mantle of leadership would replace what was missing from the Tower.

"Well... S-stay positive!" Megan implored, doing what her tour guide of sorts had done for her since her arrival. "I'm sure that he'll return just fine."

"...Just fine." He had done it before, so why did it still bother her so much?

"And in the meantime, we can keep enjoying the day, right? I still want those Chocos!" She maintained a smile to lift her spirit.

After a reassuring breath, Mar'i caught the smile onto her own face. "You're right. I'm just being a worrywart again, like Martin says." She shook her head of the burdensome thoughts. "We haven't had a day this nice in a while anyway!" The sunlight brightened not just the halls of the mall, but the girls' moods as well. "For once, let's just enjoy the peace and quiet."

**BOOM.**

She sighed. "Never mind."

* * *

High above the city, a vortex appeared, spitting out two individuals.

One of them was a teenaged boy in a blue long-sleeved spandex shirt, torn and marked with unseemly lines of red in multiple places. The blue pants, with no belt loops and made of the same material, were tapered by red boxing boots. He sported wavy black hair and sharp cerulean eyes, but cuts and bruises ruined his usually handsome visage. A red cape hung from his shoulders, but rather than reaching his knees cleanly, one side was torn and frayed compared to the other.

The second was a brown-eyed man, appearing to be in his early twenties, with a blonde buzz cut and a forest green combat suit that seemed to mix military and royal tastes. A flowing cape connected to the upper armor with shining shoulder plates, and a sash crossing from left shoulder to waist, bearing an alien glyph in green over a black background, brandished his highborn status for all enemies to see. A belt also wrapped around his waist to hold his necessities, especially his precious weapon, a one-handed battle ax. The handle was made of a gold-colored metal, but glyphs were forged into both it and the silver blade proper. His hands and arms were covered in elbow-length green gloves, marked with the same design as on the sash. His knee-high boots also bore the design.

The weary youth tossed a desperate fist at his opponent, but it was deflected, a right cross plunging into his face in return.

The blow sent the boy in blue plummeting into a costume store a few blocks away from the plaza. Coughing at the brick dust around him, he sought to find his bearings. Before he could sit upright, a falling boot stomped on his chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

The one digging into the teen's torso grinned with sadistic glee. "After the chase you have given me, your head will make a fine trophy!" The monster in green reached to his right, raising his ax high for the finishing blow. "Father will make me his right-hand man for slaying the son of-"

"Hey!"

A purple bolt of energy crashed into the villain's hand, knocking his weapon loose. It made a crack in the sidewalk at impact.

"AGH!" Groaning at the explosion's sting, he turned around to see the next person on his kill list. "WHO DARES?"

What he found was a girl with black hair, green eyes, and a red-hot temper, her hand still glowing purple in preparation for the next blast.

"Here I was, trying to have a nice day out with my friend," Mar'i frowned, "but you just HAD to make a mess!"

"This is not your affair."

"When you mess with this city," she pointed to the people still fleeing at the sight of the falling newcomers, "you make it my affair!"

"Your city?" He spat in her direction. "Your city means nothing to me, and neither do you, girl." His sneer was as sharp as the edge of his ax. "But if you interfere, I, Killroy, son of General Steppenwolf, prized soldier of Apokolips, will end your life first."

The target of his bloodlust moaned amidst the bricks that painfully cushioned his fall.

"Get... away... from here…"

"Don't worry," The now undisguised Miss Martian assured, "we'll get you out of there!" She knew—without reading a single mind—that she had to help that boy.

Following her partner's word, Nightstar took off toward the injured teen. A purple streak trailed after her as she picked up speed.

Without even looking at her, however, the military man caught her in mid-flight and, with a spin, launched her back where she came. He reached out his hand, his ax faithfully returning. "Now, let us continue."

Killroy raised it high…

"STOP!"

But Miss Martian flung her psychic power into the man, the command to swing his arm becoming a command to kick his right foot. His efforts to walk only resulted in a stumble to the ground face-forward.

Still able to move his head, the obvious question came: "What did you..." it hurt to speak, "do to me!?"

The mental mistress snapped back her hand, grabbing it in shock. "I meant to freeze him, but…"

He fortunately (or unfortunately) regained his bearings, getting up to one knee and coughing pieces of brick out of his mouth.. "You will suffer for that, you green speck of-"

A blue, red, and yellow projectile knocked him across the street.

"Hey, guys, what'd we miss?" Kid Flash rubbed her shoulder. "Geez, it's like running into a brick wall—and I'd know."

"All of these annoyances!" The heroines heard in the distance.

"Who's the guy in green?" The speedster tilted her head as she made a stop beside Nightstar, who had recovered after her unwilling journey. "'Cause I gotta say, it does not look good on him."

"He called himself Killroy. He seems to like... well, killing." The interim leader motioned to the boy in the rubble. "Help me get him out of here."

"I got one better." Kid yelled out to her teammate. "Hey, Miss Martian! A lift?"

"What?" She snapped out of her shock. It would not do to freeze up on the job. "Right." Soon the debris began to float out of the way, providing easier access to the others to his body.

Meanwhile, the forest-colored foreigner got to his feet again, but as he made one step closer to snapping the red-and-yellow one's neck for her transgression, a wall of neon-green electricity stood in his path. He tried to move in a different direction, but the wall had turned into a circular fence, trapping him in with a shock wherever he touched.

Hornet descended into view. "Not so fast."

Killroy sneered. "Still more?" His surprise and frustration gave way to a realization.

Surely, he could try to get to his quarry, but the numbers were not in his favor; the travels to this place had taxed him a bit, and these new opponents appeared better rested.

He made a choice.

Meanwhile, Nightstar focused on her hometown's new arrival. "Are you alright? Can you get up?"

"...hurts... to move, but..." He leaned up, painfully, but eventually. The star child lifted him to his feet, Miss Martian reaching his other side to steady him. He tried to take a step, but his body was too beaten for him to do anything more than slump forward and black out.

Something about the boy grabbed onto their minds.

The hair, the blue clothes, the red scraps that were once a cape, it was all so familiar…

"I could swear I've seen that guy's face before." Kid spoke the others' thoughts.

"VERY WELL THEN!"

Pulling out a box-shaped device the size of a remote control, he pressed a button, opening up a loud, shining portal just like the one that brought him to Jump City. The explosion of sound and light caused Hornet to lose his concentration, dispelling his barrier.

"I will come back for your head!" Killroy screamed over the noise. "Rest well, son of Superman! For when next I return, the final victor will be me!"

As abruptly as he arrived, the warrior from Apokolips was gone.

The team was more preoccupied, however, with something he said.

Hornet asked, "Did he just say-"

Kid Flash answered, "He totally did."

It was then that Nightstar noticed how a piece of the boy in blue's shirt was torn, a flap revealing toned muscle. Pushing the flap back into place showed her the famous symbol, plain as day:

The S-shield.

The shield shape was closer to a triangle then normal, and the S itself was different, a thinner letter with sharp angles rather than the usual curves, but there was no denying the resemblance.

She could have slapped her own forehead at the obvious.

"Of course!"

Miss Martian's jaw dropped.

"Superboy!?"

* * *

"How's our houseguest?" Back at the Tower, the substitute leader questioned the team medic. They were all in the infirmary now, chairs around the bed.

"I was going to bandage him up, but he's actually a fast healer," Miss Martian assessed, in a mixture of professionalism and wonder, "especially under the solar lights."

"So, Superman's son is in our infirmary." Hornet chuckled. "Mama's not gonna believe this."

Kid Flash's eyebrow rose. "Really? You're a living battery, I can run at the speed of sound, and I'm pretty sure that little boy blue over there could crush coal into diamonds with his bare hands if he wanted," she noted. "Disbelief has been suspended for folks like us a long time ago."

Rather than respond to that rebuttal, he remarked, "Already got a nickname for him, huh?"

She shrugged. "It's my thing."

"You know, I never asked before we split up." Mar'i asked. "Where were you two, anyway?"

Kid's body seemed to stiffen. "Us?"

* * *

"**So, what do you think?"**

**In a distant diner on the outskirts of Jump City, a brown-eyed, dark-skinned boy with hair styled in a bald fade in blue jogging pants and a loose T-shirt leaned his head on his hand, slyly smiling as he watched the girl sitting next to him at the counter.**

**His company, a light-skinned girl with green eyes, wore a white shirt with a horizontal red stripe, rugged jeans, and stylish red sneakers. She also wore a large locket with a familiar lightning bolt design on the front.**

**Similar to the boy's bald fade, her auburn hair was cut low on the sides and back, leaving the longer hair at the top with a windswept look. A few wayward strands passed over her forehead and reached the twin emeralds currently staring into space. A fork hung between her fingers, a mere twitch from dropping onto the plate.**

"**Yo, Iris?" He waved his hand in front of her face. "You still there?"**

**Snatching and gripping his hand in mid-wave, finally coming back down to earth, she spoke.**

"**Martin."**

**She looked him dead in the eye, green to garnet.**

"**This… is the greatest pie… in the history of pie."**

**The girl had no idea that another hero spoke those words in that exact same chair: Beast Boy, who told Martin about this wonderful place, but neglected to mention part of its significance—such as the fact that yet another Titan, his then-**_**girlfriend**_** Raven, sat in that same chair and proclaimed those words to a green hero too.**

"**Bet you're glad I told you not to **_**speed**_** through it, didn't you?" He knew she'd get the other meaning.  
**

"**So very glad." She took another bite, savoring every sweet apple-flavored second. "Mmm..."**

"**Well, now I know your future birthday present." He realized he didn't know her birthday, but before asking that question, noticed something else. "Hey, are you crying?"**

"**NO!" Iris pathetically denied it, even though the pie was **_**just that good**_**. Her namesake, her great-aunt, would be burning with jealousy right now if she knew her apple pie was no longer deemed the best on the planet.**

"**I see tears."**

"**Don't make me regret going on-" Iris caught herself, "uh, hanging out with you!"**

"**What was that?"**

"**Nothing." She stuffed some food in her own mouth before it betrayed her.**

"**No, you were saying something—**_**mmph!**_**" Too fast to be seen, she shoved a forkful from his slice in his mouth too... not that he minded, once the flavor hit his tongue.**

"**Shut up and eat your pie."**

"**Yes, ma'am."**

**He would have, too, if not for the**

BOOM.

"**So much for pie."**

"**Hey!" Iris got the waitress' attention. "Can we get one of these to go?"**

* * *

"Nowhere!" Kid Flash answered first, making Hornet's head turn to her with an unspoken question. She simply chose to stare forward, hoping he wouldn't ask it out loud.

"Riiiight." Nightstar's eyebrow rose, but she supposed it wasn't important right now. Whatever those two were doing together, it always got out in the open eventually.

She just hoped it wasn't in the form of a jelly-filled balloon barrage... again. _Never leave them alone on April Fools' Day,_ she reminded herself.

_Well, whatever they're doing doesn't matter now,_ she realized as the medic got the son of Superman some water. What was more important was getting to the cause of the guest's distress. "Now, how do we deal with him?"

"You could start by quieting down." A hoarse voice spoke. "I can hear everything you're saying." He sat up, revealing his naked upper body to the girls, including a speedster who subtly appreciated it, and the boy, who for a split second reconsidered his exercise regimen.

"You're finally awake!" She handed him the glass. "Welcome to Titans Tower. I'm Nightstar, and that's Miss Martian, Hornet, and Kid Flash." The others smiled shyly, nodded, and two-finger saluted, respectively.

"The Titans? Huh." His voice expressed a weary surprise. "Guess that save makes sense."

"So, Superboy-"

He groaned; the name itself seemed to deal a blow like his last opponent.

Nightstar flinched. "Can you tell us what happened before you, well, fell out of the sky?"

"I was doing some work in Metropolis, when I heard this thing that sounded like a bomb exploded downtown. Turned out some sort of portal opened up in the middle of 3rd and Welling." He gulped some more water down. "So I went over to see who or what it was that came out, and before I could even ask his name, he claimed he was glad because 'Killroy, son of General Steppenwolf, soldier of Apokolips,' wished to have the 'rarest of trophies,' the 'son of Superman.' I told him I was no prize, then things got... messy."

"You got your butt handed to you?" Hornet got to the point.

"Yeah." His answer hardly reached the green teen's ears. "I guess in the scrap we got thrown through one of those Boom Tubes and ended up here."

"Boom Tube?"

"That's what he called it." He started voicing his thoughts. "Maybe if my flight power wasn't so iffy, I'd have gotten the angle on him. Could've gotten some distance and come back with a plan."

Then he realized where he was.

"Wait, why am I telling you? Matter of fact, why am I even here?" He stood up from his seat, groaning as his muscles demanded a bit more rest. "I'm gone. I can figure out a way back home."

"Superboy!" Nightstar trailed after him. "Wait!"

Miss Martian turned off the machines, stepped out to stare down the hall… then vanished.

The remaining members of the team found the room to themselves.

"Yikes. He's definitely not as cheerful as the papers make him look."

"I'm guessing that fight shook him up. It sucks to lose, especially like that."

"Yeah." A flash of memory, her biggest failure... a phantom pain swept over her left leg. "It sure does."

Silence, before something occurred to Hornet.

"Hey, Kid."

"Yeah?"

"Did you forget to pick up the pie from where we left it before the fight?"

"No."

"So where is it?"

Her eyes shifted away. "It's close by."

"How close by?"

"Right next to you..."

"How is it right next to me if you're—Wait."

He stared at the dessert's 'location,' who gave an awkward shrug.

"Seriously?"

"...yes."

"Come on, Kid!"

"It was good pie, Hornet!"

He sighed.

"So, maybe…" She took off her goggles, going for the secret weapon that worked on pretty much every guy she ever knew (except Robin—after all, it was _Robin_). "Take me back for some more?" She pouted with a quivering lip, trying to resemble a despondent, flame-haired puppy. "Pleeeeease?"

"Ugh." He groaned; her pouting was overdone enough to almost make him laugh, but _those eyes! _"Alright, fine... but you're buying this time."

"Deal."

* * *

Nightstar finally found him, hanging his legs over the edge of the roof, seemingly watching the choppy waves slap against the island's rocky shore.

"Superboy, are you okay?"

She heard mumbling.

"What was that?"

"I said," he repeated himself, "Don't call me that. It's Jon... er, Jon-El."

"Alright then, _Jon_." She figured a casual approach would ease the info out of him. "What's wrong?"

"What do you think?" He snapped at her. "I got the strength, I got the look, but I finally got my first big fight... and I couldn't even handle one guy."

He slammed a hand down, leaving an indent on the roof.

"I'm a screw-up."

"Don't talk like that." Nightstar tried to console him. "So he overwhelmed you. He's still beaten, sent running. Isn't that what matters?"

"Oh, what do you know?" The boy in blue growled. "You don't know what it's like being-"

"The child of a superhero?" The scion of Starfire raised an eyebrow. "Hi, my name is Nightstar. Have we met?"

"But are you the son of Superman?"

She had no response to that.

"Superman isn't just any superhero, he's _the_ superhero. He paved the way for the rest of us. The Justice League wouldn't have first come together without him. The flipping _Teen Titans_ might not even exist if not for him!" He threw his hands in the air in emphasis, letting them fall as he went on. "Metropolis would be a smoking crater by now, at least.

"If he were here, he wouldn't have needed a whole team to bail him out. He'd have knocked that Apoko-loser out with his bare hands! But me?" He asked more to himself than to the girl beside him. "I saw that ax hanging over my head, and I... I choked. How is the son of the world's greatest hero going to _be_ a hero if he can't even face the bad guys?

"And I can't imagine what those people out there are saying right now. 'Superboy the super-coward.'" Blue eyes bulged. "Or the folks back home! Aw man, they're probably printing my obituary right now at the Planet!" He gripped his curly black hair from the stress. _Mom's probably__ put out a missing persons story for her little Jonny Kent by now, too…_

"Jon, calm down! You'll tear your hair out!"

He realized what he was doing, releasing his hold. "Just look at me, I'm a mess!" He clenched his eyes shut. "I might be wearing his S, but I'm not..."

With a sigh, he let it all out. He slumped over, relaxing his face in his hands.

"I'm not_ him_."

And there it was, Nightstar realized.

Jon had put Superman on such a high pedestal, not even the power of flight could get him up to where he saw his legendary father.

Mar'i had always been proud of her father too—he was a legend in his own right, in every identity he'd taken—but she wasn't sure she ever felt like this.

A voice from nowhere, however, picked up where Mar'i left off.

"I think I know how you feel, Jon-El."

"What the-?" Jon's body snapped upright, the surprise jerking him from his melancholy. The heart attack ended upon seeing the other girl of off-world heritage, her camouflage disappearing. "Oh, Miss Martian."

"You can call me M'gann if you wish." If Mar'i could help her, M'gann figured, she could help someone else in turn... especially him of all people.

She had followed the duo out the door minutes ago, curious about what had him so depressed, and eavesdropped invisibly.

"How would you know how I feel?"

"When you say that Superman is a symbol for us all, you are right." M'gann removed her hood. "My uncle, the Martian Manhunter, greatly respects him. He's told me stories of Superman's adventures alongside him over the years." Her eyes bashfully darted to the side. "I think that's why I'm such a fan of him—and of you." A sliver of elation made its way out. "I've followed your adventures ever since the Shuster Bridge incident! Lifting that bus of children from…! _Ahem._" She forced down her inner fangirl. "But that's not important right now."

She continued on topic. "Anyway, my uncle talks to me about his own time as a hero as well. Superman was one of the first modern heroes to go public, but the Martian Manhunter has been among humanity for decades before, helping in secret. From the first day he went public, he has represented an entire race—one from a world that planet Earth doesn't yet know is inhabited. Every step he takes may determine how others on Earth accept others of his kind... including me.

"Every day, I wonder about my role in it all. Am I doing the right thing, living here on Earth? What if I ruin all the work he's done to show that other beings from off-world can coexist with humanity? Even those who can't take a form like mine?"

Amber eyes looked to lime-green hands: so much like those of her teammates, but under the surface, and especially in her _true_ form…

"What if I-"

"Screw up?" He answered for her.

"Exactly."

"Fortunately, she's not alone." A sisterly arm wrapped over the Martian's shoulders. Twin grins bloomed. "We're a team, and we have each other."

"She's right. Even outside of battle, Mar'i has helped me get used to Earth life beyond what I know from stories and television." The green girl giggled, releasing herself from her friend's embrace. "You learn very quickly that most problems can't be solved in twenty-two minutes."

"And of course you're not Superman, Jon. You'll never be Superman," Mar'i continued.

"WHAT?" Anger and confusion mixed into the word.

"Wait, let me rephrase that!" She took a breath to reset. "I mean that just like I'm not Starfire, and M'gann's not Martian Manhunter, you're not Superman."

"You don't have to be him." M'gann placed her hand on his shoulder. "You can be yourself, Superboy... or whatever name you may happen to choose."

"Whatever you do, don't just give in to a temporary bad mood," Mar'i advised. "Don't just give up."

He drank in their words. "Yeah... _he_ wouldn't give up, would he?"

"I certainly don't believe he would," the Super-fan asserted. "Even Superman is with the Justice League, so if things become difficult, he has someone to help him." She offered, "We could be that for you."

He stewed over the idea for a moment.

If his father could do it, then why couldn't he?

The heroes here were pretty accepting (and the girls didn't look half bad, either). He might have to consider hanging around, if his dad didn't find him and ground him for a decade.

More importantly, they believed in him. They wouldn't have saved his life, patched him up, and talked with him out here if they didn't think he was worth something.

He'd keep trying, for himself and for them.

"Alright, then! Let's see how this Titan thing works out." His anticipation suddenly made way for embarrassment, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry if I came off like a jerk before."

"You won't regret this!" The Martian maiden proclaimed. "While you're healing, you may want to maintain your strength in the exercise room, and the television in the living room has over 1,000 channels, though Hornet and Kid Flash tell me there's nothing on, and... and..." She practically quivered with glee. "This is astounding! To think that Superboy is living in the same building as-"

"Hey, Megan?"

"Yes?" She did not bother to correct him.

"Your hand's squeezing a little tight there, even for me." In her excitement, Miss Martian demonstrated her enhanced strength on his shoulder.

A pair of amber-red eyes landed on the offensive object. "Oh!" She flew back ten feet, her face turning from a lime to a tomato. "Sorry."

"Meh, don't be. Believe it or not, I don't get much attention from girls." Well, Jonny Kent didn't, anyway.

Superboy had gotten plenty of attention from Killroy, though. If that alien gave promises like he gave right hooks, the young hero realized, both would come around to hurt him again soon enough.

_I need to be ready._

"Now, what was that about an exercise room?"

**To be continued...**

* * *

**Yep, that's right.**

**Superboy.**

**And not a clone, like Conner Kent, though that character's qualities will inform something about him, as you'll find out later.**

**Killroy is a real DC comic character, the son of Steppenwolf in the comics pre-Flashpoint. Look up his picture and imagine him aged up a bit.**

**Yes, I made M'gann a Superboy fangirl. Since she's based mainly on her animated appearance, I figured, hey, why not?**

**Sit tight, Titanic readers, and see if you can spot the Super-references.**


	6. Episode III Part 2

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I don't own _Teen Titans_. I also don't own the Fortress of Solitude: a nice, large, cool-tempered place which I think would be a nice change from this stuffy room I've been in all year.

What's that? Going outside for air? Well, how would I write this story then, silly?

Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode III Part 2: The Boy of Steel

"Look, Nightstar, I don't want to hurt you."

Under Cyborg's crafting hands, the Tower's exercise room was filled with weights, fighting dummies, and state-of-the-art machines, each designed to mold Earth's young heroes into fighting form. The level below even held an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

None of those were in use right now, however, except for a couple of punching mitts worn by the strongest Titan in the city... possibly second-strongest, if her training partner bothered to put forth the effort.

Said partner, the famous Superboy, was in a breathable black mesh T-shirt, the classic S-shield in red print, keeping on his usual blue pants. Martin had offered him the spare shirt (fan merchandise) since the blue top he first came with was being repaired at the time. Rather than wear the whole costume on all the time, Jon chose to keep the black shirt on for training purposes.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I am... you know."

"It's just a couple of punches. One, two." She patted the mitts together. "I've got some alien strength too, in case you forgot how I saved you?"

"Don't remind me."

"Believe me, I can take it."

"Okay, here goes."

He unleashed his fist... and made contact, a normal jab barely making her budge.

"...Really, Jon?" She pouted. "Robin can punch three times harder than that... and that's with a cold."

"But-"

"Don't ask about it!" A possibly primal urge to see such strength pushed her to push him. "Just do it!"

"Alright, fine!"

The second attempt went much as Mar'i expected.

His punch was certainly stronger.

The attempt also went better than expected.

She felt proof of that when she crashed back-first into the padded, now dented, wall.

Standing on wobbling legs, she moaned. "Not... bad."

"Hey, M'gann!" Jon looked to his other training partner. "You wanna take a shot at me?"

She froze, a deer caught in cerulean headlights. "Me?"

"Don't see any other Titans here." Hornet and Kid Flash were in the living room—the Game Station 7 wouldn't play itself, after all.

"Okay..." For convenience, M'gann's cloak receded into the costume. "…but I warn you, I'm not much of a hand-to-hand fighter."

"Hey, that's all good." He tried to keep things comfortable. "Tell you what: I'll make the first move."

"Alright." She took a defensive stance. "Could you take it easier on me than...?" Her amber-red eyes glanced at the girl still leaning against the wall.

"You got it."

He ran in, throwing a right-handed punch as before, trying to pare down his power...

…and landed right next to where Mar'i stood. A matching dent was in the wall beside hers, his body upside-down and his eyes wide open.

M'gann instantly came to his side. Hurting a new potential teammate in the first week? And Superboy? The Superboy? She would never be able to live it down! "Are you okay? I didn't use too much strength, did I?" She muttered to herself, "I thought I was in control of this form..."

"Are you serious?"

His voice cut so deep, she briefly considered going invisible—no, she would sink right through the floor, despite her density training being incomplete. Yes, never breaching the earth's surface again was the best way to hide her shame-

"That was AMAZING!"

"…huh?"

"Dad always took it easy, so he never showed me that!" Cerulean orbs sparked with excitement. "You gotta teach me that move!"

Her heart swelled with pride.

"Sure!"

* * *

"The rules are simple," Hornet announced. "Five laps around the track; the first to cross the red line wins."

On the shore of the island, the Titans waited at the start of a flattened path wrapping around the island. A metal obelisk projected a waist-high beam of light that acted as the starting line.

"You might have some powers to go with that S on your chest," she pointed, "but that still doesn't make you..." she posed, hands on her hips. "The Fastest Girl Alive!"

"Well, I sure hope I'm not, KF," he responded, "or else both our dads have some questions to answer."

Kid applauded. "Ooh, you made me a nickname, and you're quick on the draw!" She yelled over to the Titans at the monitor, "HEY MAR'I! THIS ONE'S A KEEPER!"

Hornet rolled his eyes. "Can we just start the race already?"

"Your boyfriend's right, you know." Jon stared ahead with a smirk. "We really should go."

Her sly smile vanished. Jon did not realize his use of a certain word may have sealed his doom. "I hope you're hungry, Super Slug, 'cause now you're definitely gonna be eating my dust!"

"3, 2, 1, GO!"

They were gone.

Hornet paused for reflection.

"You know, I probably should've set this up for just one lap."

"Why?" M'gann inquired.

"Because…"

_**WOOSH.**_

Two blurs blew past, nearly taking everyone off their feet.

"…that's gonna happen four more times."

Four gale-force winds later, the duo came to a stop, each grinning in presumed victory.

"HA! I win! Flash speed trumps Super speed every time."

"No way, that was my win!"

"Ha!" She stared him down, despite the fact he was a head taller. "I literally raced circles around you!"

"I think those goggles are messing with your eyes!"

Green and blue clashed, neither giving ground, until it was decided.

"Rematch?"

"Rematch!"

They were gone.

"Aaaand there they go again." Hornet wiped the newly upturned dust off his costume. "I'm going out for lunch. Anybody up for pizza?"

* * *

"Are you ready?"

"I think so."

Two Titans joined Jon in the rocky desert east of the city. The team had decided that he would need space for this next part of his training. He wore his full costume now, figuring that if he was going to show off, he might as well be wearing the proper threads.

"So what did your father ever teach you?"

"About this? Not much. He said it came pretty much naturally to him. He figured my powers hadn't matured enough yet." The boy did not know it at the time, but a solar flare that day awakened his dormant alien genes, which had been active for well over a year and a half now.

"From what Mar'i told me, Tamaraneans absorb solar radiation to feed their powers." Miss Martian explained her theory. "Uncle never told me, but judging by your reaction to the solar lights in the infirmary, I believe Kryptonians work the same way. This sunny afternoon should bring us the perfect conditions for flight."

"It's still hard to believe you didn't know how to fly," the star child mused.

"I can cross city blocks in a single jump when I get moving fast enough, but staying up in the air? Nothing." His posture slumped from the weight of his failure. "Just… don't rub it in, okay?"

"There's no need to feel bad, Superboy. I'm still working on my powers too," M'gann confessed. "I've been at working on density shifting for about a decade. And with Killroy…" She recalled his startling collapse. "I'm still not quite sure what happened."

"Well, why don't you just show us, Jon?" Mar'i cut in before a pity party could start. "Get in the air, and maybe we can give you some pointers."

"Alright." He stepped away a few paces and crouched—then thought about it, and stepped back further. "Here goes."

He tensed…

…and jumped, a blue rocket launching into the sky. He stretched his arms straight ahead, as if reaching out to the sun would propel him further.

The girls followed him below, tracking his ascent—and true to his word, he faltered. The outstretched arms now flailed helplessly as gravity began to reclaim him.

"AAAAHHHH—"

The ground cut him off with a **BANG**.

Mar'i made it to him first, waving away the dust cloud. "Are you okay?"

An answer eked out of the crater.

"…ow."

* * *

"I just don't get it!" Back at the tower, Jon was still rubbing dirt out of his hair. "It's like there's this brick wall in front of me."

"There may be one in your mind," M'gann figured. "A mental block, that is. Either it was placed in the mind for a reason by a powerful psychic—"

"Haven't fought one of those."

"—or it's a psychological obstacle erected by the person afflicted to overcome."

"If that's all, then it's easy!" The desperate boy proclaimed. "You told me that you're psychic—mind-reading, telepathy, that sort of thing, right?" He grabbed her shoulders. "You can break it!"

"I…" The Martian maiden felt his hopeful gaze pulling her in.

She wished she could say yes.

She backed away. "I can't."

His face fell; his arm slackened at his sides. "What?"

"What I mean," she affirming her voice, "is that I shouldn't. Communication with others' minds is one thing, and skimming for information is another, but breaking barriers, especially if they're deeply set, can have dangerous consequences. I don't want to risk hurting you."

A groan left his lips, but there was still hope.

"I believe, though, that when you need it, your power of flight will come."

His hand twitched to dish out the despair on the nearest wall, but he managed to restrain himself with a huff. "Fine."

He worked without flying this long, he could wait a bit more time.

That didn't mean he would like it.

He had no idea that Kid Flash would provide him with a release for his frustrations as she burst from the living room. "Nightstar, we got trouble!"

Rather than check the breaking news, Jon extended his senses, picking up a sound that was growing louder. It was the same assault on the ears, multiple times.

**BOOM**.

His telescopic sight witnessed the events.

A blonde man in alien attire, laughing evilly, shouting orders to…

_What in the world…?_

Mari asked the obvious. "Let me guess: Killroy?"

"Yeah." Jon closed his eyes, focusing back into the room. "He's back. He's got monsters, troops, whatever they are... a lot of them."

Jon stated it simply:

"I'll need your help."

The leader simply looked back to her team. "What do you say, Titans?"

Hornet adjusted his gloves.

Kid Flash put on her goggles.

Miss Martian answered for them all.

"You didn't even have to ask, Superboy."

Nightstar felt a familiar rush as she said the words her distant partner had a dozen times over.

Another feeling went through her too—a stroke of uncertainty.

She just hoped those two words brought them good luck:

"TITANS, GO!"

* * *

The Titans stopped downtown, making their way opposite the flow of scared citizens, to get a full look. They each had their reactions.

Nightstar: "Great X'hal above!"

Miss Martian: "By the sands of Mars…"

Kid Flash: "Holy crap."

They had good reason to be disturbed, as the Boom Tube that heralded their recent foe's return was accompanied by several more, each releasing an outpouring of ghoulish creatures. Each of the monsters had granite-shaded skin, black, mindless eyes, jade-green under armor, and gold-plated wings, similar to the colors of their leader. Some held guns of Apokoliptian origin, others held golden clubs, and still others scraped at the city's walls, windows, and people with their bare claws.

"YES, MY PARADEMONS! GO! DESTROY IT ALL!"

The Titans found Killroy above the carnage, standing on a floating platform of energy apparently manifesting from his boots.

Superboy came into the villain's view, the S-shield a tantalizing bullseye. "Ah, so you've finally come out of hiding?"

"Look, you want to have some stupid vendetta with me? Fine, we'll fight it out..."

A Parademon swiped at a scattering crowd of civilians.

"...But you can't take your anger out on these people!"

"Oh, I can, son of Superman, and these mortals are to blame!" His eyes filled with hate. "They brought my wrath upon their heads when they interfered with our battle!"

"You picked a bad place for a second round, dreg!" Hornet proclaimed. "We got home field advantage!"

"You'll have neither home nor field once I've razed everything to the ground, you lowborn bug."

"Not while I'm here, Killroy." Jon-El proudly raised a thumb and pointed to his family's crest.

The enemy beckoned, arms wide.

"Then face your better!"

As the menacing multitude coalesced around the five, Miss Martian asked, "How can we stop all of this?"

Nightstar looked around, gulping at the sight. There were so many of these monsters, worst of all the one in man's guise at their head…

But she would not be daunted. She took a breath, gave a silent prayer to X'hal and her mother for strength, and made her decision.

"We contain the threat. Hornet, Kid Flash!" They snapped to attention. "Distract them, knock them out—do whatever it takes to keep them close. No one goes beyond a three-block radius from this position."

"On it," they resounded in unison.

"Since most of them are still here, Miss Martian and I will handle the inside. If necessary, we'll be support for Superboy." She looked his way. "Superboy, you-"

"HAH!"

The four heard a pounding sound, followed by a pained screech. They spotted a green-and-yellow mass speeding overhead and landing head-first into an office building.

"…go after Killroy." She shook her head. "Titans, move!"

Hornet and Kid sparked with their respective energies, and they were off, crashing through a few enemies as they departed.

Miss Martian took the enemies to her left, using the nearby debris to her advantage. In minutes, one after another collided with a wrecked car, was crushed by a concrete boulder, or was batted back with a lamppost.

One descended from behind to crush her bones in a bear hug, but his growls gave him away. A field of psychic force surrounded her and pressed back with a thought. He bounced off the invisible wall, giving Miss Martian the opening to grasp onto his head.

The telepathic Titan learned quickly via mind-scan that the Parademons had practically no identity of their own, following the orders of their commander as if ingrained into their very DNA.

This rid her of any guilt she would have otherwise felt as she pierced into the little mind there was.

_Sleep._

The compulsion froze the attacker, who she used as her next projectile.

Meanwhile, Nightstar put her physical ability to good use. She floored each creature before her with one or two punches, and blasted a few back with her starbolts and eye beams.

Still, she could not catch them all, and a Parademon grazed her shoulder with his gun. Channeling that spark of new fury into power, she returned fire with a terse purple bolt, the resulting explosion taking out its gun and charring its armor.

The creature was undeterred and came head on, displaying a surprising bit of intelligence when it leaped over her next shots and came down with his hands in a double ax handle. Nightstar met the overhead strike with an arm block, and the asphalt beneath her buckled from the force. She forced back and returned the favor, grabbing the Parademon's shoulders and shoving him face-first into the dirt. A pound to the head planted the enemy for good measure.

Nightstar could not even take a breath of relief before a screech of another sounded behind her. She turned and instantly lashed out her hands to meet its clawed ones. Faced with the thought of losing time and lives, she decided to finish this faster.

"I hate to do this kind of thing, but…"

She let her hands glow with energy. The creature heard and felt the skin of its hands begin to sizzle, and after a torturous half-minute released its grip. The painful distraction was enough for the heroine to deliver a fist that sent her opponent bowling into a trio of the incoming beasts.

The swarm circling her and her nearby teammates suggested that this fight could and would take much more effort to beat.

"I'm not quite sure if I have that much in me," she whispered to herself. "But I have to try."

Getting into the air, she faced her next opponent head on.

"I just hope the others are having an easier time than us."

* * *

Kid Flash wasn't the best student in school, but she had a knack for physics.

Newton's second law of motion, in particular, was her best friend. In simple math terms, force equals mass times acceleration.

And she was very good at accelerating.

This was how her fists, with a little help from the Speed Force, were able to dent a Parademon's armor with a rush of punches.

With that one finally felled by a rising uppercut, she tripped another by sliding at its leg with a discarded crowbar. Finding a use for the dropped mace, she grabbed it and, with a spinning hammer toss, hurled the burdensome object at a third's head, downing it with one blow.

"TAKE THAT, YOU UGLY ALIEN SCUM! ...heh, sure hope Megan didn't hear that." A group of the beasts did, however, and fired at her from above.

"That's right, come and get me." She zoomed down the street, their vision too focused on her to notice the trap ahead: an electric web that shocked them and caused them to plummet to the ground.

While Kid was always fascinated by Hornet's bio-electricity constructs, this time he wasn't around to appreciate the results himself.

A short distance away, the boy in question enlarged from his perch on a Parademon's shoulder to deal a shocking strike it its neck. He departed and watched his falling foe, but couldn't enjoy it; for another low flier clipped a taxi, causing the car to launch at a helpless trio of teenaged girls. Two managed to run, but the third tripped and fell to a knee. She rubbed her shin to soothe the pain, but spotted a shadow growing on the ground.

She looked up to the heart-stopping sight.

One girl gasped. "SHELLY!"

It was too late to move in time.

She closed her eyes and resigned herself to her fate…

…when the car suddenly halted in midair, captured in a neon-green electromagnetic field.

"Hey, ladies." Their guardian angel arrived, speaking casually despite the slight strain. "Need some help?"

Hornet landed the car back on the curb, drinking up the cheers. He descended in front of the three girls, one with her phone in hand as she told her circle of online friends the news.

The girl he saved from being a pancake pecked him on the cheek, a portrait for internet prosperity (about ten minutes). "Thanks, Green Hornet!"

"No problem, but uh," he found himself off-balance for more than one reason, "it's just 'Hornet.'"

While the others gushed about how incredible this was, Shelly had a proposition. "So, I was thinking..." her hand fell on his chest, "Maybe if the world hasn't ended, we could go out for-"

"Hey, Romeo! I've been running in circles without air support over here!" Kid Flash braked a few feet behind him. "Fighting now, fangirls later?"

"Wait! Here's my number!" Shelly hastily scribbled onto a slip of paper and stuffed it into his hand, her sisters giggling behind her.

He grinned, happy that the hero life had its perks…

…but when he blinked, his glove was empty, courtesy of a wind that also blew the girl's hair into her face.

He knew the cause. "Kid!"

"See what happens when you take your eyes off the prize?" The redheaded racer dangled the slip from her fingers. "You end up wide open."

"Excuse me! We were talking! Who do you think you are?" Shelly wondered, moving in a little closer to _her_ prize, who'd raised his brows in curiosity and surprise.

Two fiery emeralds stared at the girl's move with laser focus. For a brief moment, the heroine considered the ethics—and physics—of smacking a civilian away from her partner at half the speed of sound.

"Me? I'm Kid Flash, one of the heroes _saving your skinny butt_ right now, and the Fastest Girl Alive." As a demonstration of her speed, the slip of paper in her hands instantly turned to shreds. "Oops, ripped! Sorry about that." She couldn't resist a satisfied smile at hearing the normal girl gasp. "You get home quickly now! Buh-bye!" A red, yellow, and blue blur was left behind.

Hornet wasn't totally sure what just happened, but he found himself chuckling all the same. "She's right. Duty calls." Saluting goodbye, he summoned his wings and reentered the fray, making sure Kid didn't get killed riding that Parademon on which she'd just leaped. "Stay safe!"

This left the girl standing on a curb with a slacked jaw and a bruised ego.

"Hmph! Fine!"

She trudged back to her sisters, who would no doubt laugh at her adventure on the long walk home.

"I liked Robin more anyway."

* * *

Back with the trio, Superboy was not faring well. He may not have been beheaded like Killroy wanted, but he found himself back where he started—with some really annoying additions.

To his luck, he began to match the alien adversary blow for blow when it came to strength, but his attacks could never stay consistent, as he would either float out of his reach or (with a command of "PROTECT!") have a Parademon to summon.

"Dangit…" He swung a frustrated punch where the man's head used to be. "Quit fighting dirty!"

"I merely fight to win." Killroy tossed a backhand that knocked the boy back into the path of a gold-colored club swung by yet another annoyance. Stumbling forward left Superboy open to the verdant villain's kick. His back met the deformed carcass of a bus.

He fell to his knees, coughing up specks of blood.

"You seem more resilient than I remember." The Apokoliptian stood amused.

"Guess I'm…" the Earthling forced down a cough and wiped the red line off his chin, "tougher than you think."

"Then the game continues." The villain gripped the weapon at his side. "Surely you remember this?"

The boy's face blanched.

Killroy threw his ax, a glowing, spinning razor as thirsty for blood as its wielder. Superboy's brain shouted at his muscles to move, and they painfully complied with a great leap. The bus was but a stick of butter sliced with a hot knife from outer space, an even bigger mess of warped metal left behind.

The blade returned to the owner, who threw it for another attempt. Superboy thought to run but was intercepted by another Parademon, its clawed left hand aiming for his head.

Superboy ducked under the arm and grasped it, an over-the-shoulder throw putting the Parademon into the path of Killroy's ax. He grimaced at the hiss the flying blade made when it cleaved through the armor and sank into the flesh.

_Thank you, M'gann._

"So cowardly."

Its master gave no pause to the dying beast, ripping the ax out of its back with nary a grunt of exertion.

"Just as before, you run from the fight."

"Give it up already." The boy in blue tried to ignore the words. "You're not hitting me with that thing."

The monstrous man threw it again, heading for Superboy's chest.

"Perhaps not… but I may hit my target yet."

With a flick of the hand, the ax curved away, soaring over his head.

"But where would you…?" His eyes followed to none other than Miss Martian, occupied with a psychic wall thrusting an enemy away.

"NO! Miss-"

"CRUSH!"

On Killroy's command, a veritable platoon of Parademons tackled Superboy from all sides, forcing him into the dirt and smothering his warning. "Mmmph!"

Miss Martian sensed something amiss, but it was no use. Widened blue orbs were unable to look away from the ax cleaving a path through Miss Martian's right shoulder. "AHH!" Her body bleeding and her consciousness lost, she started to plummet.

Nightstar heard her cry out, and screamed herself at the sight. "M'GANN!" A clawed hand swiping across her cheek forced her back into her own brawl.

"Now you see, son of Superman!" Hovering on the platforms beneath his feet again, the blonde brute had grabbed the unconscious Martian in mid-fall, now lifting her by her left arm. "This is what your weakness has cost you!"

Jon-El, under the mountain of minions, heard it all; the strikes to his teammates; the screams of the innocent; the seemingly joyous shrieks of the Parademons as they wreaked havoc on a city that inherited his troubles.

_They're all suffering because I wasn't strong enough the first time..._

_Because I was afraid._

His hands dug into the pavement.

_I can't let this happen anymore._

_I _won't_ let this happen anymore..._

_I won't be afraid anymore…_

_No more!_

"You may not be Superboy, green girl, but one way or another, I will take a trophy today!" He retrieved his weapon, looking for just the right angle to deal the imminent death blow.

He failed to notice the rumbling from the dogpile.

"NO MORE!"

The pile exploded outward from a flare of solar energy.

In the middle stood the battered boy in blue, eyes aglow with the threat of fire.

"KILLROY!"

The shout shook the evil alien down to his bones, but his pride would not let him ignore the battle cry. He turned to see Superboy tense for a jump.

That was all he saw.

A flicker of blue later, and Superboy appeared beside him, a grip on Killroy's wrist growing tighter, almost daring him to hold Miss Martian for a few seconds more.

It had not even occurred to him that his supposed prey was _at eye level_ beside him; his tension before was not a mere leap, but preparation...

...for flight.

"Let her go."

Faced with those fearsome eyes and the increasing pain spreading through his arm, he released Miss Martian into Superboy's grasp. Another blur later, and the two heroes were on a distant rooftop.

"M'gann?" He lightly patted her face to see if she would respond. "Come on, please don't be dead..."

A pained moan showed that she was coming out of her forced slumber.

"Superboy?" Her vision cleared, she stared into those twin cerulean orbs with awe... but the beautiful distraction had to wait. "Mar'i—_ahn_!" The wound to her shoulder curbed her outburst.

"I'll help her out in a minute. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll heal quickly." It was one of the perks of having a Martian's physiology. "I just need some time."

"Good to hear." A gentle smile hit his lips. "And don't worry." The smile succumbed to sadness. "You and the others won't be hurt anymore because of me."

"Jon, it's not your-"

"Just sit tight." He looked back into the fray. "I have a fight to finish."

Meanwhile, Killroy was still trying to comprehend what happened, how the blue blur smashed through the crowd assaulting the purple girl with such ease, how he survived the onslaught of maces and lasers that felled him minutes before… and more importantly:

"How did he… make me feel fear?" He mumbled, unnerved. "The quarry is not supposed to frighten the hunter!"

"Like I said," Superboy came back to him, arms folded, "I'm tougher than you think."

A vein pulsed over Killroy's left brow. "No! I… I am stronger!" His fury consumed him. "SUPERIOR!" A forehand swing of his ax came at the young hero's head with the force to shear a normal man in half.

He simply intercepted the sides of the blade with his hands, bracing through the burn, pushing back at equal strength.

"Why... won't you..." the man strained to push forward, "just give up?"

The boy's eyes glowed red.

"Did you forget who I am?"

He fired a low-powered blast of heat-vision at Killroy's chest, breaking the villain's focus. This slackened his forward push just enough for the Titan to leave the ax's path and deal a jaw-shaking right cross.

"I'm Superboy!"

When the ax swung his way out of pained reflex, he flew with it and slammed a left fist into the wielding arm, stunning it and causing the weapon to fall from his opponent's grasp. With only one arm for defense, the adversary from off-world could not protect himself from an iron-hard jab, sending him into the brick wall of a building his forces wrecked in their attack.

"And you're DONE!"

Not letting up for a moment, Superboy unleashed a furious flurry of fists. Each punch, with the speed of a Flash but the force of a freight train, crashed into Killroy's wall-bound form, small booms elicited at impact. Every blow the Apokoliptian had thrown in their first battle was returned tenfold by the half-Kryptonian in this one.

A final uppercut laid Killroy to land on his back, staring into the sky of the planet he invaded.

_This boy... is... too much..._

Superboy saw him sit up, and was set to slam him down for the count-

"STOP!"

Killroy yelled out to the Parademons, halting as programmed. Nightstar stopped her eye beams from toasting the nearest one, despite a slight temptation.

"You..."

The verdant villain's glare lost focus, his eyes glassed over as the truth set in.

"You... win."

His body began falling back...

...But he was not allowed rest.

Superboy grabbed him before his head hit the dirt, yanking him up by the scruff of his top.

"Look at you now. You can't even stand."

He lifted him higher.

"Me? I've still got some power to spare."

Now only his left hand held up the villain, the other hand clenched into a fist to line up with Killroy's face.

"I could pound your head until it falls off your shoulders... or, if I really try, turn you and your friends to ashes."

Brown eyes widened, pupils shrinking in fear of failure and death. "But Superman does not kill!"

"True..."

The corner of Superboy's blood-marked lips upturned.

"But I'm not Superman, am I?"

His teammates watched for a sign. The purple powerhouse charged a starbolt, just in case.

_He wouldn't go that far, would he?_

She felt another voice in her head respond.

_He won't._

_M'gann! _While the voice was familiar to her mind, it was still a surprise to hear._ Did you read his mind?_

_I don't have to. Jon won't do it... I can feel it._

"But... I'm also no killer." Sure enough, his hand let slack, the arm falling to its proper place. Nightstar loosed a breath she didn't know she held. "Which is why I'm giving you one chance. You set up that Boom Tube, you go home, and you never threaten Earth again. If not..."

The son of Superman pulled the son of Steppenwolf close, staring deep into his eyes, reflecting a burning crimson.

"...we finish where we left off." The deadly light receded. "Understand?"

Killroy, too tired and afraid to speak, nodded.

With a single arm, the Boy of Steel tossed him at the feet of his minions.

"Now get off my planet."

The invader's communicator (surprisingly not broken after the beatdown) broadcast the message directly into their minds:

"PARADEMONS! BACK TO APOKOLIPS! RETREAT!"

**BOOM.**

Multiple Boom Tubes appeared once more, the two-toned swarms returning to their homeworld, to be wielded as living weapons or turned into food for the lowlies another day. Carried off by the crowd before him, Killroy vanished into the bright portal... hopefully, never to be seen again.

At long last, the invasion was over.

Jon let his senses take in the city, hearing some of the screams and sobs change to cheers, Jump's citizens knowing that their heroes saved the day.

Heroes...

_He _was a hero.

He fell to his knees, the weight of the threat no longer a yoke on his shoulders, but the pain of the day taking its place.

Hornet reached out a hand, gratefully accepted.

"Thanks."

The boys began to make the trek back to the girls...

...when a streak solidified in front of them, talking at rapid fire.

"So I was just making sure those green freaks were all gone—no offense, lightning bug—stopped to pick up a quick bite, and-"

Kid Flash saw nothing but debris.

"You already took him down?"

Superboy only smiled.

"Aw, man, I missed everything!"

* * *

"Are you going to be okay, Jon?"

The Titans stood at the island shore, wishing their newest member goodbye. Hornet and Kid Flash had already said their piece: the former asking to get his cousin Power Woman's autograph and picture whenever he got the chance (for which he received a speedster's slap upside the head), and the latter promising to beat him for sure in their next race (no flying allowed, of course). In return, Superboy wanted to meet the "Robin" that Nightstar talked about; Batman and Superman were friends, so maybe they could get along too.

"I'll be fine, thanks to you—to all of you guys, really." He stared up at the giant metal T. "You didn't just help me feel like a hero again; you made me feel at home.

"Oh, and thanks for patching up my clothes again," he gave a knowing grin, "though I couldn't help but notice the shield was a little different."

Indeed, where an altered S-shield once spread over his chest, the true family sigil now showed itself proudly.

It felt right.

"That was my doing. Consider it my gift to you for helping me." Also, being the Super-fan that she was, M'gann couldn't help but add it this time. "I just wish that my weakness wasn't the impetus for your growth, Superboy." She gripped the shoulder that once suffered a wound, and stared down in shame.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about that." He waved it off. "After all, you were right. When I truly needed the power, I bashed down whatever was in my way. If I got the power of flight by saving a friend, that's okay with me." He stepped over and placed his hand over hers, gently pulling it off and returning it to her side. "Besides, if there's anything I've learned these past few days, is that we all take a couple hits sometimes. We just gotta brush ourselves off, stand tall," he raised her chin with his free hand, "and keep on fighting, right?"

Superboy's contact with her and his award-winning smile was enough to make the Martian maiden melt—almost literally. "Right!"

"Well, I'd better be moving on." He stepped out to the edge of the rocky cliff, looking up into the morning sky. "Knowing my hometown, it probably needs the help." _And knowing my mom, she's probably gonna kill me,_ he kept to himself.

"How are you getting home?" Mar'i was still the worrywart.

"Easy." He leapt gently, and stayed in the air. "I'm pretty sure I've gotten the hang of this!"

"Good." She nodded. "But remember-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. When there's trouble…"

He raised his new Titan Communicator.

"…I'll know who to call."

With a salute, he went up, up...

"Later!"

_**WOOSH.**_

…and away, a blue and red streak cutting across the sky.

"There he goes."

M'gann stared dreamily into the distance.

"Yeah."

The boy was already out of sight. "He really has gotten better."

"Yeah."

Mar'i caught on, with a grin usually seen on her little brother.

"You so have a crush on him."

"Ye-" M'gann blinked. "WHAT? ME? No, I just... um... _he's_ just..." She wisely left to save herself from further embarrassment. "I'll see you inside!"

Mar'i held in a giggle. She had a lot to write about in her diary today (yes, even a girl of a digital age wrote in a paper diary), and a lot to tell Robin when he got back.

But before she could head inside herself, she needed to assist someone.

The son of Superman returned from his brief journey with an important question:

"Hey, uh, which way is Kansas again?"

**Episode III END**

* * *

**Another heaping helping of heroism—and another twist on the next generation.**

**An early inspiration for this "episode" was the Elseworlds graphic novel titled **_**Son of Superman, **_**from which I got his original S-shield.**

**I named him Jon Kent/Jon-El, by the way, because it would be a perfect way to honor his grandfather Jonathan and make the name short enough to remember. Also, the alien name sounds like something Jonny Kent would carelessly blurt out in a Daily Bugle interview ("My name's Jon... EL! Jon-El is my name, yeah, that's it!"). The existence of the villain Jon Lane Kent in the New 52 comics turned out to be a coincidence I discovered while writing the story.**

**You may be asking, am I gonna do anything with M'gann and Jon here? I dunno! I guess we'll find out together, won't we?**

**Keep your eyes peeled for more, Titanic readers.**


	7. Episode IV Part 1

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I do not own _Teen Titans_. I also don't own a way to bring back Kid Flash from _Young Justice_. Stupid Reach chrysalis. Stupid series cancellation. I know it was years ago, but that doesn't make the pain go away!

But I digress. Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode IV Part 1: The Homecoming, Part 1

In a quiet darkened room in Titans Tower, a teenage girl slept. Yet another supervillain tried to get an early start to the day, and her soft snores indicated she was making up for the lost time. Her limbs splayed across the bed; her messy red hair spilled onto the pillow—as did her drool.

A repeated pounding at her door roused her from sweet slumber, along with a voice.

"KID!"

"Mmmh…"

"Of all the days to sleep in…" The muttering made it through the wall. "YO, KID! GET OFF THAT SPEEDY BEHIND AND COME TO THE-"

"Hornet?" The door opened to reveal the drowsy redhead. "You're not supposed to be in my room."

"You really are out of it. I told you that soda was gonna go to your-" His eyes randomly traveled down, then quickly turned around with the rest of him. "Pants."

"What?" An eyebrow rose. "I didn't spill any-"

"No… your pants."

She connected the dots and looked down.

"Oh."

She really did like lightning designs.

The emerald insect considered sprinting away from the image trying to burn itself into his memory. "I'll be heading to the living room..."

"Hold on." She stopped him, but tried not to turn him back around. "Just give me five minutes."

She finished in exactly that, walking in step with him and shaking out the water in her hair. "What's the hurry, anyway? It's not like anything special's gonna happen."

He barely held back his smile. "You'll see."

She was wrong—happily, dead wrong—when the surprising cry came out:

"HAPPY TITANVERSARY!"

The "Titanversary" was the first-year anniversary of a Titan's induction into the roster. Not every member made it so far as to have one, but they were almost always great.

"When did you all come up with this?" She looked at the banner, the balloons, the gift-wrapped boxes on the living room table, and—with hungry eyes—the cake.

It looked delicious, and fitting: The red velvet cake was topped with yellow frosting; scarlet frosting bordered its sides, and a scarlet lightning bolt cut straight down the middle. The words "Happy Titanversary" crossed the yellow expanse with no difficulty.

"We all did our part," M'gann responded. "I helped with decorations, Mar'i set up the cake, and Martin and Damian picked up the presents."

"This is great, guys, really." She looked back at the dessert. "But what are you guys eating?"

"Very funny." Mar'i _hoped_ that was a joke.

The quintet split the cake down the middle all the same.

They all ate at normal speed, raising their glasses high. Damian, of all people, came forth with the toast.

"Here's to a whole year with our fastest friend, Kid Flash! One year ago, you ran into our home, but you'll never run out of our hearts."

The time went by so quickly, even for her. The parties, the movie nights, the villains… it was hard to believe a whole year had gone by.

_A whole year since I-_

The smile on her face dimmed.

"A whole year…"

* * *

The afternoon, and the fun, went on. The wrapping paper was stacked and disposed of by M'gann, though the rest of the cleanup was not yet complete.

It would have gone faster if a certain speedster wasn't dully staring at the television.

"What's up, Kid?" Hornet called over from his edge of the table, cleaning up the crumbs. "You seem out of it."

"I'm doing fine, Hornet." Her dull tone did not convince him, plus he noticed the obvious:

"Just 'Hornet'? Not 'lightning bug,' or 'bug brain,' or even 'sparky?'" The one time she called him by the latter, he abruptly laughed in her face, the word unwittingly reminding him of his Uncle Vic's long-standing nickname. "Now I know something's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong."

"You're a horrible liar."

She changed gears. "I can't tell you."

"C'mon. It's me! Since when do I hide things from you?" He appealed. "Except the secret identity, and honestly, I was going to tell you that today."

"What about Mr. Bumbles?" His cherished bean-bag bumblebee from childhood was kept on his nightstand as a reminder of his distant mother.

"Okay, that is an exception, because _no one_ was supposed to know about that." Mar'i found out years ago, and told everyone on his birthday as a long-awaited revenge for the last April Fools' Day. "But seriously, let me help."

"Fine, I'll tell you." She pointed at his chest sternly. "But you have to promise not to freak out, okay?"

"Please, Kid. We're superheroes. There's nothing you could tell me that would throw me off."

* * *

"I'm not Kid Flash."

Hornet gave the appropriate reaction:

"WHAT?"

"Shut up!" She slapped a hand over his mouth. "Do you want everyone to hear?"

His speech trapped behind her gloves, he instead motioned at their current surroundings.

"Right, we're on the roof." She relieved him of his gag. "But I thought you weren't gonna lose your cool?"

"I just don't get it." His brow furrowed. "You clearly have the speed of Kid Flash and the look of Kid Flash—well, except for that jacket—and from what I saw in the archives, you even sound a little bit like Kid Flash." She bristled at that last line. "So how are you not, well, Kid Flash?"

"Well, I'm Kid Flash, but… not _officially_ Kid Flash," she answered, "since the first one—Dad—chose my brother."

"You have a brother?" That had not come up before.

"A twin brother," she elaborated. "His name is Jai. J-A-I, but sounds like the bird."

"Hmm… Korean?"

She blinked. "You know your stuff."

"I know Speedy." He shrugged. "Her language lessons didn't all stick, but I remember some things."

"Huh." Hornet wasn't the only one surprised today. "Anyway, Jai was always the one in first place. He got his powers first; he was always a little faster than me; he beat my grades in school..." She gave a mirthless laugh. "I only beat him by being born first.

"So I decided to make a fresh start out here, away from all that. Figure I'd be first at something for once."

"But...?"

"What do you mean 'but?'"

"You're clearly distracted about something. So I ask again," while having an idea what the answer was, "what's up, Kid?"

"I..."

She huffed out the truth.

"I guess I miss them."

_Called it!_

"It's been a whole year, you know? I missed a Thanksgiving, a Christmas, a birthday..."

"Huh, so I did miss it."

"Actually... you didn't. Remember pie day?"

"Oh, yeah. That was something." He had a flashback of her happy tears falling into her new favorite dessert, not to mention the falling star they met. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah." A soft smile. "Thanks. That was a pretty sweet sixteen, all things considered."

"Hey, I was gonna take you anyway." Back to the subject, "But what are you gonna do? Your folks probably miss you too."

"Pfft, fat chance," she rebuffed. "They never even came to see me here."

"Have you talked to them?"

"Of course I-" Her breath caught in her throat. "No… Well," she reversed, "Sort of. I sent them a letter, told them I was here, doing fine, and that was it. They haven't said anything since."

"Nothing?" Hornet spoke with his mother every few weeks—and was _not happy_ on the rare times he did not call back. Fortunately, she didn't berate him as often as she used to, and hadn't threatened taking him back to his hometown of Steel City; he had a feeling Uncle Vic had something to do with that.

"Although," she admitted, "it might be because I told them not to reply back."

He only sighed and shook his head.

"Hey, if they can't be bothered to talk to me, they might as well just leave me alone!" She forced a smile. "Besides, I'm fine here; things are great here! With the gang, with you..."

"And yet, here you are, moping around the Tower like you lost your running shoes."

Her façade cracked. "This isn't exactly easy to deal with."

"Neither is stopping most of those bad guys we meet, but we always figure that out, right?" He assured her, "You can handle this."

"Sure, _we_ figure them out. Because we're-" Her face brightened. "TOGETHER!" She grabbed Hornet's hands and pulled him in close. "That's it!"

"What is?"

"You and me!" She declared her brilliant idea, "Just come with me! You can help me face my dad!"

"Woah, wait a minute." He figured a few words and a pat on the shoulder might help, but he wasn't expecting this. "Doesn't this seem like a family matter?"

"Yeah, maybe, but I can show them I'm better off in person," she tugged him back over by the arm, "if there's someone to vouch for me!"

"Uh, I don't know about-"

She unleashed her secret weapon.

"You can vouch for me, can't you?"

There was the pout… and the goggles were up again… which only meant…

_Aw, slag it._

His will washed away.

"I guess it would be cool to meet the Flash."

"YES!" She performed a double fist-pump, followed by a leaping hug. "You're my hero, I swear!" She yanked him by the hand to the door. "Let's go tell the others! Then you can just get a backpack or something set up, and we'll race on over!"

"Race… to Keystone!?" His eyes bulged behind the visor. "In Kansas? The state 1000 miles away?"

"Sure! That's barely half a day at my cruising speed! I did take breaks on the way here, though." She continued to drag him across the rooftop. "I'll just hold your hand for a little while, and if my theory about sharing speed is right, then-"

She felt him pull back again, almost making her stumble. "How about we just take a train?"

"Okay, okay," she pouted. "If you want to be all slow about it..."

* * *

"Here we are."

A long ride later, two not-so-average teenagers stood at an average two-floor home. It was a brick house, with a white sloped roof and a red-striped overhang above the porch.

"Nice place," the boy removing his backpack concluded.

"Yep. Looks the same as how I left it."

"You ready to go in? We didn't practice what to say on the way, is all I'm saying." He had to admit, even he was a little scared. Stepping into the home of the Flash Family was certainly not what he expected as a distant after-party. Fortunately, he tended to roll with the punches life gave him…

…and so did she. "As I'll ever be." She took a breath to steady herself. "Let's do it." She reached into her pocket and revealed:

"You have a key?"

"Just because I don't live here doesn't mean I might not come back for my stuff."

"Good point." He bowed and waved an arm toward the door, the neon knight escorting the lightning lady into her own house. "After you."

Iris rolled her eyes, but let slip a bemused smirk all the same.

A few clicks of the lock, and the duo entered. Leaving their bags at the entrance, Martin got a look around.

To the left was the dining room, a large empty table at its center with eight chairs to fill. Connected to that room was the kitchen, where the sound of running water and clattering dishes could be heard.

The right opened up to the living room. A big-screen TV (not as big as the one in the Tower) was against the wall, some pictures just beside it of the family's members.

In the center was a hallway to the back, where a bathroom and den were located, and a staircase to the bedrooms and upstairs bathroom; even in a home with three metahumans, though, the children used to fight over who would use the bathroom first.

"Wally? Is that you?" A woman's voice echoed from the kitchen. "You can move at Mach speed with a thought, but it still takes you forever to get the milk!"

"No, Mom, it's me."

A dropped plate shattered.

"Iris."

Footsteps quickened from the kitchen to the hall, bringing a person into view.

She was a woman of Korean heritage, her lightly toned skin bringing widened brown eyes to the fore. Dark wavy hair framed her softly angled face and fell upon her shoulders. While a mother of two, the years of family life did nothing to diminish the beauty that she flaunted since her days chasing the latest news story.

"Hi, Mom."

"IRIS!"

She may not have had superpowers, but Linda Park-West ran with the speed of her husband and crushed her daughter in a hug with the strength of Superman.

Kid Flash had romanced girls around the world, but even he met heartbreak after he and Jinx parted ways. Years later, however, he met local reporter Linda Park. Despite some initially rough encounters (and even more hostile interviews), the two found love with each other, becoming parents of two.

"Ow! Easy!"

"No!" She only hugged tighter. "You're getting every second of this!"

Linda whispered to her daughter and to her heart, finally soothing the quiet ache it had nursed for months.

"You're okay."

Iris was blanketed in a unique warmth that forced her pride to step aside. She was never mad at Linda, after all.

It was focused on _him_.

But she could put that anger away for the moment, too, as she realized:

_I missed this._

"Mom…"

Then Linda whispered all too loudly a certain word.

"My little Irey's okay…"

"Mom!" She felt a blush heat her cheeks. "Not in front of Martin!"

"Who?"

Linda spotted an African-American boy awkwardly waving his hand, witness to the scene.

"Uh, hello, Mrs. West."

She squinted. "You brought a boy with you?"

"Yeah, he's-"

"Hold that thought. I better bring 'you know who' downstairs. He just hasn't been the same since you left. Up in that room all day…" With the commanding force only a mother could unleash, she cried, "JAI? JAI, COME DOWN AND SEE YOUR SISTER!"

A muffled "I'm coming…" and a quick series of stomps later, he appeared. The young man clearly took after Mrs. West's side of the family, Martin observed, but his hair was cut short and a bit spiky, and unlike the face of his elated mother, his brow was clearly set into a frown.

"Well, if it isn't Iris West." A bitter tone left his lips. "How's it going, big sis?"

"Hey, little bro."

There used to be a joke they shared, ever since Iris learned that she was born two minutes earlier, but today the mirth was sorely missing.

Jai's eyes barely flickered over to the visitor before meeting hers again. "Who's the guy?"

"The name's Martin." He introduced himself, trying to get ahead of any suspicions. "I'm a friend of Iris."

"Okay, 'friend of Iris.'" The younger twin nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Jai!" Linda's glare drilled into him, "I raised you better than that."

His arms folded. "Well, I'm not exactly in the best mood, Mom, since the 'prodigal daughter' here finally graced us with her return."

"This was kind of a spur of the moment thing," Iris explained.

He gave a _tsk_. "Yeah, no surprise there."

Rather than continue down that road, she gritted her teeth and asked, "_Look,_ is Dad home?"

"No." Seeing Iris sigh at seemingly wasting her time, Linda warned, "But you _will_ be staying here until he does."

"I already came this far. I'm not going back now…" She could have sworn she saw something pass over her mother's face when she said, "…not yet, anyway."

"Alright then." Linda accepted this—for now, at least. "I suppose I can get part of dinner ready and finish up when your father gets home. I'm guessing you came for a reason?"

"Cool." The redhead made her way up the staircase, taking Martin with her. "In the meantime, I can show you my-"

"RED LIGHT, YOUNG LADY!" A childhood of memories acted on the girl, stopping her in an instant. "And where do you think you're going?"

"To my room." To Iris, it was obvious.

"Oh, no, you're not." To Mrs. West, it was madness. "You haven't talked to me in an entire year, and now you—a 16-year-old girl, I might add—want to bring a strange boy into your bedroom?" She turned to the boy in question. "No offense to you, Martin."

"None taken."

Her daughter sighed. "Mom, it's not like I'm gonna do anything with him!"

"You get those sneakers off those stairs and into the living room." She pointed. "Now."

"_Ugh!_ FINE!" Iris trudged to her new destination.

Jai's mouth opened.

"Shut up, Jai."

He said nothing, instead setting his eyes on the new guy. Martin decided to ignore the chill up his spine that followed and whispered in the redhead's ear, "How did you ever leave here in the first place?"

"I swear," Iris muttered. "It's like I never left…"

* * *

One of the quirks of a family with super-fast metabolisms is that the refrigerator has to constantly be fully stocked. This allowed the trio of teenagers to snack on sandwiches that, if they wanted, could match the sizes of their heads.

Martin found his appetite lacking a bit, though, since the other boy in the room continued to stare a hole into a side of his head.

He'd had enough of it. "Alright, bruh, what do you want?"

"You never answered my question, you know."

"Huh?"

He brusquely elaborated, "You never said what you were doing here."

Martin was really starting to dislike this guy. Wasn't he supposed to be the family favorite?

"I'm clearly here for her," he pointed to Iris, "not that it's any of your business."

"Yeah, lay off him!" She reinforced. "You'll find out when Dad gets home."

Sure enough, the teens heard the door open, Linda entering the room to greet the arrival.

"I know it took me a while, but I finally got what you wanted!" A new voice made itself known. "This far into the 21st century and you still can't find a decent checkout line."

A Caucasian man with fiery red hair and emerald eyes, sparking with spirit and experience, stared down the newcomer. Under his untucked white dress shirt and red slacks hid the body of an athlete, necessary for his extraordinary job, as were his sneakers, a utility and fashion choice (he and Iris unwittingly shared similar tastes).

On his left hand was a simple-looking brass-colored ring, with a lightning bolt design in its center.

"I'd have been better off milking a cow myself." He saw his beautiful wife, his scholarly son, his daughter not seen in this house in months, some dark-skinned boy he'd never seen before with his mouth wide open—"Who is this?"

The boy himself seemed to need a moment to reboot his brain, his sandwich dropped onto the plate.

_It's him!_

"Hi, honey. This is-"

"Martin. Martin Beecher-Duncan. I, uh…" he searched for the right word, "work with your daughter."

"Work with my daughter?" The man's voice carried no emotion, gauging just what the boy knew.

"I work with Kid Flash."

"Kid Flash?" He laughed. "Sorry, but I don't know any Flash, kid or otherwise." Unbeknownst to him, his daughter felt a pang in her chest.

"Let's just cut the bluff, alright?" Martin presented his hand, allowing green lightning to dance between his fingers. "When I'm on the job, you can call me Hornet, Teen Titan!" His pride faltered when he remembered whose house he was in. "…sir."

"At ease, cadet," he joked—the last person who called him "sir" was a bank teller. "The name's Wally West." He eased off the boy, figuring that the latter wouldn't reveal his identity unless he assumed he was safe among other heroes. "Just call me Wally… or Mr. West, if you're gonna be formal."

His hand began to reach out, but he had to ask first:

"So, you know?"

"I can guess." Martin proclaimed the world-class secret. "You're the Flash."

The hero of Keystone City acquired his powers after getting doused in the same lightning-struck mix of chemicals that gave his uncle Barry Allen, the original Flash, the power of super-speed.

Wally's years as Kid Flash were fun and unpredictable—but nothing prepared him for Barry's sacrifice to save the Earth during a dire crisis. In time, Wally left his Kid persona behind and stepped into the yellow boots of the Scarlet Speedster.

Iris saw her friend smile with respect as the hands finally clasped.

Iris also noticed something else:

"Huh, no spark."

"Huh?" Wally diverted his attention to the other new face… "Oh."

One that wasn't so new after all.

"Hello, Iris."

"Hello, Dad."

Martin could have sworn the room dropped ten degrees.

"So, _Kid Flash_," another pang hit Iris' chest, "what brings you back here?"

"Well, I-"

"I mean the letter you sent us from California quite clearly told us to never talk to you again. And I quote," he recited from memory, "'I can't stay in this house. I can't stay where I'm not going to be treated with respect. I can't stay where no one will give me a chance. So I'm giving myself one with the Titans. Until I come back, don't call back.'"

"THAT'S WHAT I-" She tried to reel her temper back in. "That's what I wanted to talk about."

"Fine." He sat down. "You have the floor."

Iris took her place in front of the now muted television. "Mom, Dad," she gulped, "I wanted to say…"

Martin was right—she really should have practiced on the way. Luckily, the message was simple, so it came to her quickly.

"I wanted to say hi." Her fear lifted. "And that I'm doing okay. You don't have to worry, because the Titans are helping me be the best Kid Flash I can be." Her eyes looked to Martin, the two connecting with smiles of support. "That's also why I brought him with me."

"I guess this is where I come in." Martin came to her side. "We've been living and working together ever since she came to Jump City, and except for her trying to hog the TV remote—_ow,_" she slapped his gut, "it's been all good. She even took a couple hits for me once or twice."

Just out of sight, Linda bit her lip.

"So while you might not have wanted me to," Iris continued, "I became Kid Flash, and I'm a Teen Titan, and when all's said and done, I'm pretty good at it." She nodded, vindicated.

Wally had his eyes closed the entire time.

She made a weak attempt to deal an impact. "So… yeah. That's about it, I guess."

Still, nothing.

"If you got questions about the Titans, maybe Martin can answer, but-"

"That's all?"

She stopped, startled. "What?"

"I asked you," he stood up this time. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Yeah," Iris figured. "What else is there?"

"How about, 'I'm sorry for running away?' Did that ever come to mind?"

"I'm not sorry about that. Matter of fact, why should I be?" Green eyes lit with defiance. "You're the one who stabbed me in the back." She pointed an accusing finger. "You're the one who took away what was practically mine to begin with!"

"Yours? You might have inherited my powers, but the Kid Flash name is _earned_, Iris. I told you that years ago."

"And that little lesson apparently meant zero! You didn't even _let_ me earn it! You never-"

"Let me guess," Wally recited the letter, "I never 'gave you a chance?' And when was I supposed to do that?"

"Well, I'd hope it was _before_ you tried talking to Jai about wearing the suit alone!"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, that's right! You didn't know, did you?" It was a small blow, a joyless victory. "I heard you that day, Dad."

* * *

**Iris walked down the hallway. Her fifteenth birthday was pretty great, but ever since then, she had wondered about a certain something…**

_**I can't push him about it, or I'll never be-**_

**She heard a muttering outside Jai's bedroom.**

"**Is that Dad?"**

**She crept closer to the door, eavesdropping just in time to hear:**

"**Jai, tell me honestly: What do you think about being Kid Flash?"**

**Iris' heart skipped, then moved in double time. The beat pounded in her head, severing her senses from the rest of the world.**

**Her green eyes bearing an empty gaze, she stepped away silently, entering her room and shutting the door.**

**She wouldn't be seen for the rest of the night.**

* * *

"YOU ASKED JAI INSTEAD OF ME!" She screamed. "Ever since I learned you were the Flash, I wanted to be Kid Flash. I wanted to be the hero in all of your stories, seeing the sights, beating the bad guys. I wanted to be out there with you!" Deep within, a child still asked if she could see the suit. "And you _knew_ that! You knew, Mom knew, Jai knew, but you went behind my back anyway!" She shed no tear, but he could practically hear them in her words. "Did you even think of me once?"

Wally inhaled, then exhaled the truth.

"I'll admit it. Jai was the first choice."

"I knew it. I always knew you didn't want me." She felt that pang in her chest again. "But why?"

"Because you're so impulsive, Iris! You get hotheaded, and look at you now!" Wally answered. "How many times did you get in trouble in school for a fight with some kid?"

"They picked on me, and sometimes Jai, so I fought back!" Flashing past her mind's eye, a pigtailed red-head punched a blonde fourth-grader for claiming her brother must have been adopted. "Mom always told us to look out for each other, so I fought for the both of us. How is that wrong?"

"I never told you to start breaking noses, Iris," Linda retorted. "Or pull tricks on bullies either. Don't think I forgot the story about a 'ghost' cutting the hair of three girls in one day."

Wally continued, "And how many times did I run around Keystone, only to catch you ditching school?"

"I… I thought I didn't need it." Iris's voice lost its certainty now. "I wanted to be a superhero, not some science teacher."

"And of course, let's not forget the time you left this house for a year! No warning, no goodbye, you just LEFT!" His hands flew skyward in resurged anger. "Did you even _think_ about what you were doing, running off into the night?"

"Oh, you care NOW?" She yelled. "You didn't even try to talk to me after what happened!"

He quieted when he explained, "I was… angry with you. I need time to think of a proper answer. Real time." His voice rose again. "But I still didn't expect you to be gone before we could talk! Even after what happened that day, I never thought that you would go so far as to run away from home!"

"What happened exactly?"

Martin's interjection set all the eyes upon him.

Jai figured it out. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

The visitor looked at her, the question painted on his face. "Iris?"

"It…" She didn't make eye contact. "It doesn't matter!"

He pressed anyway.

"Why did you leave?"

Her mouth opened, then shut. Her eyes squeezed shut in tension as well, as if she was physically pushing herself through a wall of emotion. "You know what? Forget it." She shook her head as a release. "This was a mistake."

She zoomed to the door.

"I'm out of here!"

**SLAM.**

"IRIS!" Wally yelled out to stubborn ears. She was gone again—and just like last time, he didn't chase her down, roots of anger, frustration, and guilt keeping him still.

He just wanted her back. And he thought she was. But that pride of hers wouldn't let her admit she was wrong, and then he got angry, and _his_ pride got in the way and wouldn't let her misdeed go, and now…

Martin, on the other hand, was willing to be more mobile. He'd talked Iris up to this point, to face her father and get this whole thing settled.

A family split apart? He knew that feeling.

He knew it well.

He couldn't leave the matter—leave her—like this.

"I'll get her back, Mr. West."

"I'll come with you," Jai followed. "You don't know this city."

"I'll find her anyway." Martin's ebony arm blocked his path. "I think you've done enough."

"She's my sister, not yours. I'm going!"

"And what are you going do?" Martin countered. "Tick her off? Make her feel worse? All you've done is rub this in her face and-"

"All I've done is be honest, unlike Irey! She's the one who didn't tell you the truth!" Jai's fist clenched. "You think I wanted all this mess? I didn't! As a matter of fact…"

* * *

**In the privacy of his bedroom, Jai West, potential bearer of the family's sunshine-and-scarlet heirloom, paused for what seemed like hours before stating how he felt.**

"**I don't want to be Kid Flash."**

**Wally scooted back from his son, stunned.**

"**Why not?"**

"**Because… I'm scared." He whispered. "I see that stuff in the news about what you do, and what the Justice League does. I'm proud of you and all, but I don't want to be a part of that."**

"**But your skills are incredible! Better than I was at your age! You picked up on everything I taught you, and more." He even learned how to phase his molecules through objects that year, something even as an adult Wally still couldn't do without destabilizing them to explode.**

"**Maybe, but that doesn't mean I want to be you. I want to be my own man, with my own name." He reasoned, "You and Mom always said I was smart. Maybe I'll use my brains instead of my feet."**

"**But…"**

"**I'm sorry, Dad." He folded his arms. "I can't."**

* * *

"And I didn't want my sister gone, either." I was scared for her too. But she wanted to do it anyway, and then she..."

His head darted back up, brown eyes alit with anger.

"Now she's stuck running around out there, because of you!"

Jai shoved Martin to the wall, the latter losing his footing.

The houseguest was close to returning that hospitality. "You might not like it, but she chose this life. And she left this house today because of you and your mouth."

He stood back up.

"The best thing you can do," he spoke through his teeth, "is get out of my way."

They were eye to eye now, each pair of garnet clouds suppressing bolts of fury.

Then a hand landed on each of their shoulders, making Jai turn his head.

"Mom?"

Years ago, Linda had come to terms with the fact that she would never completely comprehend what her speedsters were going through, but that didn't mean she didn't want to help them.

Iris was her daughter, after all.

That was why her choice was clear.

"Jai, let him go."

"What?"

"Iris won't speak to us right now." She turned to Martin, "But I get the feeling she trusts you."

She had but two words to tell him:

"Fix this."

For this family and for his friend, he would.

"Yes, ma'am."

**To be continued…**

* * *

**And with that, the drama bomb is dropped, with Martin washed over by the fallout.**

**I've wanted to do this chapter for quite some time, since reading about Kid Flash's background from Earth-22**** got me thinking. There, her mother is someone different, her dad isn't around (well, technically, as a speedster constantly on patrol in Keystone City, he's always around), and her brother (in that universe, Barry West) refuses to wear the scarlet mantle. Wally STILL chose Barry West over Iris for the Kid Flash role.**

**The mainstream comics pre-**_**Flashpoint**_** have Jai as a kid whose Speed Force connection gives him… super-strength? And then some character hinted he might become a villain? Weird.**

**As cute as little Irey is as Impulse, poor Jai deserved a better fate than that, I think, and both universes have their interesting parts, so this story's Jai West became something of a mix.**

**Will the adult and Kid Flashes ever make amends?**

**Will Jai ever get off Martin's back?**

**Will I ever be able to make a chapter with all five Titans in it?**

**Find out the answer to two of those questions, next time in "The Titans of Tomorrow."**


	8. Episode IV Part 2

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I don't own _Teen Titans_, but I do own a disk of _Batman: Arkham Knight_! Not too bad a game, but there's a little too much Batmobile (and whoever thought a stealth section with tanks was a good idea needs to suffer very slowly). Still… I wouldn't be averse to the developers at Rocksteady creating a game based on the Flash's history. Wink, wink, painful suggestive nudge?

I suppose I'll have to wait a couple of years for that. Until then, read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode IV Part 2: The Homecoming, Part 2

Martin Beecher-Duncan was given a task by the Flash's family to help his friend, and he wouldn't let them down.

The problem was, he had to find her.

His first idea was to fly over the city and do a quick sweep; there was a chance she decided to run a lap or two to let off some steam. Of course, if she was on the move, stopping her would be a different matter.

He second idea was to call her T-Comm and track her from there. Again, finding her without her running off at the sight of him might be an obstacle.

His best option, he learned, was simply turning his head to the right.

"Oh."

There she was, leaning on the porch railing with a frown on her face. She stared into the afternoon sky, her eyes equally clouded by her mood. If Martin could see her eyes, he would find they almost looked impatient, as if the stars were taking too long to show themselves.

"Hey." She could tell it was him, the only reason she even uttered that icy greeting.

"Hey." He walked closer. "How you stormed out, I thought you'd be halfway back to Cali by now."

"I can't leave. I thought I was, but…" She sighed. "I don't know." She looked down, her stare failing to burn a hole in the front lawn. "I guess I can't."

"Good, since the trip back would've been pretty boring without you." He thought back to the start of the eventful visit. "So… Irey, huh?"

"Yeah."

"It's cute."

"It's just to tell me apart from my aunt when she comes around," she dismissed. "Just a nickname, that's all."

"Like the one you gave me?"

"Yeah, but that's different." She didn't know how, but she told herself it was. "Hasn't anybody ever called you, say, Marty before?"

"One friend of mine tried," he faked a deeper voice and grim face, _"but he won't be speaking again."_

They shared a light laugh.

"Yeah, you never looked like a Marty to me either."

The humor died, floating away with the sparse dead leaves.

"You could have told me."

"I told you everything you needed to know."

"Except that something happened to make you run away, and it wasn't just not being picked."

"_Martin…"_ She warned him to let it go.

_"Iris."_ He warned her he wouldn't.

A long 30 seconds.

"Iris?"

"Alright, I'll tell you!" She muttered under her breath, "You're almost as bad as Dad is."

"I'm taking that as a compliment." He leaned on the railing right beside her, his ears open, and she began.

"When I heard that Dad wanted Jai to be Kid Flash, I decided to prove myself. So I waited until he left town on a mission, made myself a quick costume, and took on a crime.

"There just so happened to be this store robbery one week. It couldn't have been more than four guys—nothing big, I figured. Dad would hear about it when he got back, and I'd show him he picked the wrong twin!

"But it didn't work out quite as well as I'd hoped.

"See, I took out most of them before they even got to the getaway car. Problem was, even though I dropped the last guy, he hadn't dropped his gun. The stupid dreg got me in the leg while my back was turned.

"And the most humiliating thing was, I got bailed out by the one boy who didn't even want to do that sort of thing in the first place!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was Jai! He was wearing one of those stupid ski masks on his face too, if can you believe it."

"No, not that," he corrected. "You got shot?"

"Worst pain I've ever felt. Right here." She pulled up her pant leg, showed him the tiny mark left behind by the bullet that passed through her left thigh. "When Dad found out, he had this… this _look_ on his face. I'd never seen it before, even after that other stuff he was talking about in the house.

"He didn't say anything. He just… stared at me.

"I knew right then and there I'd never be able to ask him for the suit, even if I got on my knees and begged." Her hand clenched on the railing. "But if I had just one more chance, some way to show him the name of Kid Flash was better off in my hands, then maybe…"

Martin figured it out from there. "And your one chance turned into one year?"

"You got it." She remembered the Titanversary party. "I never realized how awesome it would be to be part of a team where I could still be me, and have a little help just in case, without worrying about Dad or Jai looking over my shoulder. It felt good to win.

"And yet, here I am. I'm right back where I started, still the bad twin, all because…" she groaned, "they just don't get it!"

"I think I get it. You were feeling left out of something huge, but when you tried to be a part of it, your plans blew up in your face," Martin concluded.

"Yeah! Exactly!"

"But-"

The dreaded word. "BUT?"

"_But,_ I kinda get your folks' reaction too. I mean, if I got shot on the first day out, Mama probably woulda kept me in the Tower 'til I was 30." He shrugged. "Maybe your parents were just… well, being parents."

She gawked at his response. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're taking _their_ side?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to sort this out!" First her brother, and now she was dumping on him too? "I'm trying to help!"

She groused, "Well, your record's been out-frecking-standing so far."

"Hold up, Iris!" Now _he_ was the one getting angry. "As a matter of fact, I think it is!" He held out a hand, ticking off the list with each finger:

"Who was the first vote to get you on the team when Damian wasn't sure? Me.

"Who's been watching your red-and-yellow butt in every fight we've been in for the past year? Me!

"Who went halfway across the country today to stand here supporting you?" He jabbed a thumb to his chest. "ME! I'm still here, _for you_, even with you keeping information from me! You really think so little of me?"

She did not look at him, but Iris could tell.

_He almost sounds… hurt__._

"Do you really think I'm not on your side?"

_I did that to him._

She started walking towards the porch steps, but—

"Oh no, you don't!"

—a grip on her wrist held her back.

"You already ran away from your family." He held firm, even as her arm's vibrations, soft for now, warned him. "You don't get to run away from me too!"

"Maybe that's what I'm good at!" She retorted. "Maybe running away's _all_ I'm good at..."

Martin almost let go at those whispered words, but knew what it would mean. He made a promise, and he wouldn't let her run.

"Don't do this, Martin. Don't…" Stilling her broken voice, she looked him in the eye. "Don't make me drag you across Keystone!"

"Well, you better get ready to paint those roads red, Iris." He stared back, unafraid. "'Cause I'm not letting go until you decide to run back into that house."

On the times she looked at Martin, really looked at him, Iris saw a guy who flowed around challenges like water. One could say it was the visor he wore that veiled his emotions, but she knew otherwise. Even on the ride to her hometown, the longest she'd seen him as just Martin Beecher-Duncan, he'd given no hint of worry about the situation until he got to the front door.

The boy before her now was as solid and—dare she admit it—stubborn as her parents always said she was. If she was lightning, fast and fierce, then he was a lightning rod, grounding her where she stood.

No matter how much she wanted to run, no matter how hard she tried, her feet—or as she put it, her _stupid, frecking feet!_—refused to move.

"Why are you doing this?" She begged, the vibration growing just a bit stronger. "Why can't you just let me go?"

"Because I can't watch you do this, Iris! Not when you got what I don't have. Not when you might lose it forever!"

"Have _what,_ Martin!?" She snapped.

Then she remembered.

"…oh."

He said it anyway.

"You have a father." His eyes started to sting.

She tried to mutter a rebuttal, the vibration slowing.

"What about... I mean, there's-"

"I know, I got Uncle Vic, and he's a good man, but," he swallowed as his throat tightened, "he's not the man who taught me how to read, or how to tie my shoes," he chuckled, "or how to spell this long name of mine without messing it up halfway through."

It was too late now.

"I was nine years old when he died. I never even got to spend that last day with mine. I said goodbye in the morning, and by dinner, he was gone."

A few tears fell, right before her eyes.

"But your father, your _flesh-and-blood father_ is right in there, waiting for you behind that door, and you don't even want to _talk _to him?" He wiped his eyes with his free hand. "I'd give up my powers in a heartbeat, just for the _choice_ to do what you're doing right now."

"Martin..."

She couldn't face him.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He sighed, restraining himself. "It's not your fault I'm acting soft. It's…" he tried to joke, "It's that brother of yours! He got me all riled up, and I guess I'm just losing my head."

"No, I don't mean about the tears—well, partly that, but still! And don't you dare put this on you!" She demanded. "What I mean is…

"You're right, and Dad is too." Her shame only grew as she thought through the day. "I really am hotheaded, and I'm selfish. I've been using you to help cover my mess, but I never really thought, never even asked, about how _you_ felt about this." A year of troubles fell upon her shoulders. "What kind of friend am I? What kind of person am I to drag you into my problems?"

"Hold on now." Now she was beating herself up, and he couldn't have that. "I kinda wanted to come." _And those eyes of yours were a little persuasive,_ he kept to himself.

"I should have told you about that day from the start, but…" she bit her lip, "I didn't want you to think of me like… like Dad does." Her eyes looked back out into the street. "I'm supposed to be Kid Flash; the Fastest Girl Alive; the coolest girl around! I wanted you to see _that_ side of me, not-"

"Not Irey?"

She flinched; was she really hiding _herself_ this whole time?

"Let me tell you about the Irey West I've seen:

"Irey West can turn French toast into soup for breakfast." (He ignored the murmur that sounded like she said, "It was only one time.")

"Irey West can down a bowl of popcorn in 30 seconds before a _certain friend_ of hers can get his hand in.

"And Irey West is the worst go-fish player in the history of the beloved sport, because her face always gives her away."

The grip on her arm loosened a bit, now a sign of company instead of capture.

"But she's still one of the coolest girls I've ever known. She's a loyal teammate, she brings a little more fun into my life every day, and she doesn't give up without a fight.

"She made some mistakes, but from what I've heard, she wanted a shot at doing some good in the world. And one of those mistakes? That's something that Irey West—_you_," he pointed, "can still fix."

He offered half a grin.

"All you gotta do is go back inside."

Her arm's vibrations, once forgotten between them, finally stopped. Martin let go, and she turned in his direction, her eyes shut tight and her face downcast.

"Iris?"

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Her face planted into his shoulder, her silent, unbidden tears staining his shirt.

She cried from how foolish it all was: she cried for running from everyone, she cried for daring to hurt him, she cried to share the load her friend carried.

And yet, she somehow found herself...

…smiling again.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Talk me down from leaving. Make me feel stupid. Make me…" She rubbed her face in further, words barely escaping the fabric. "Make me feel okay."

"Well, I am a hero." He puffed up his chest. "And part-time therapist. Maybe I should charge by the hour?"

"Don't get a swelled head, bug brain!" She laughed through her disappearing sobs, backing up to slap him on the arm. "But you know, whatever mistakes I've made, I'm glad something good came out of it."

"What's that?"

She whispered her answer:

"Meeting you."

Martin felt something delicately peck his lips, the slightest spark left behind.

In the next second, the door had opened…

"Thanks, lightning bug."

…and shut, leaving the boy to stare blankly into the night. His hand touched his lips, still tingling from a shock of different kinds.

"You're welcome."

* * *

_Did I just do that?_

Back indoors, a redhead was palming her own equally red face.

_I just did that! Like some sappy fairy tale princess!—one with super-speed, but still._

"What was that?"

Jai was standing at the steps, having halted his ascent after a sensation passed through him.

"W-wh-what are you talking about?"

"Something happened outside." He may not have used his powers most of the time, but he was still tethered to the Speed Force, and especially to his sister. "I felt a little zap, or something." He smirked. "Plus, your face looks like a tomato. What'd you do?"

"Nothing!" She once again hoped that avoiding eye contact would save her.

"You always were a bad liar, _big sis_."

"It's none of your business, _little bro_." She walked back to the living room, hopefully leaving the issue behind. Right now, there was something else to do. "Anyway, I gotta talk to Dad."

"Iris!" Wally heard her, rising out of his pit of self-loathing. "You're back already?"

"I hadn't really gone anywhere," she confessed. "Someone helped me see something important."

Linda smiled. She knew there was a reason her little girl liked that boy.

"The truth is, Dad, I'm-"

"Hold that thought, Iris."

She stammered at her apology cut short. "W-what?"

Wally had his attention pulled elsewhere.

"Something's on the news."

He pointed to the television, featuring a blonde-haired male reporter at the mercy of the winds battering his body.

"**BREAKING NEWS! ****A freak storm has erupted near the corner of Broome and Carmine. Traffic has ground to a halt as a combination of snow, sleet and fog have made the area unable to navigate. The cause is currently unknown, but witnesses claim that something or someone is-" **Interference garbled the message.

"We're gonna have to put this talk on hold. I'm heading out," Wally announced to the family.

"I'm going too."

"This isn't a game, Iris." He thrust his left fist forward; his other hand pressed the hidden button on his ring. "This is my town."

"Yeah, and this is my _home_town!" Reaching under her shirt's collar, she pulled out a locket with a distinctive design on the front, pressing _its_ hidden button. "I'm coming with you!"

A mass of synthetic fabric released from each of their containers, grabbed by two swiftly-spinning tornadoes.

The twister that became Kid Flash took a literal second to retrieve her goggles from her backpack. She returned to a man clad in a predominantly scarlet bodysuit with bright yellow boots. Wrapped around each forearm was a yellow lightning pattern. A belt of the same pattern wrapped around his waist, remaining unconnected at the front.

His cowl hid his pupils but, like his daughter's mask, kept his chin and mouth unconcealed. Two lightning-styled antennae ran on the sides of his head, his yellow compared to Kid's scarlet.

In the center of his chest was the symbol that bound the speedsters together: the yellow bolt striking over a white background, a golden ring encircling the whole design.

The Flash was ready to run.

"Then you better keep up."

Both were gone, leaving a windswept Martin behind. "A whole year, and I'm still not totally used to that."

"I know what you mean," Linda remarked as he reentered the home. "But shouldn't you be following them?"

"Don't you worry about me, Mrs. West."

Martin removed from his bag a metallic canister. Pressing a button on the side revealed a distinctive pair of visor sunglasses.

"I'll catch up."

* * *

Two streaks made their way into town. They could hear the squeals of automobile tires running off the roads and crashes of brick against metal; screams of fear and irritation as the masses scattered. Seconds later at Broome and Carmine, they ran into the source of the disturbance:

A white, windy mess had consumed not just the intersection, but much of the city block.

"A snowstorm in the summer?" Kid was grateful she had goggles. "It sounds like-"

"I know."

"But you beat him years ago!"

"_I know,_" the Flash groaned. "But he always finds a way to keep coming back. He's never had this kind of power, though…"

The villain was currently using the weather to his advantage, having smashed into Loring Jewelers with a quintet of goons.

He wore a thick and primarily ice blue jacket and pants, a white design resembling frost covering his shoulders and upper torso. His red hair poked out from under his white hood. A light beard, with no mustache and no sideburns, trailed along his jawline. Yellow trim on his ice blue boots and gloves separated them from the suit proper. A yellow belt held a holster for his weapon, a blue gun of unusual ammo. His ice blue eyes were shielded from the cold by blue goggles.

"Get moving, boys," the mastermind commanded his men, who loaded the ill-gotten gains into a truck. "That ice won't move itself."

"Got it, Cap." One lackey nearly dropped his spoils at the sight of the hero of Keystone City. "Look out, it's the Flash! ...And some kid?"

"That's Kid _Flash_!" The young speedster announced with pride.

The robbery's ringleader was not amused. "Back to having a partner, Flash?"

"Back to jacking jewelry?" Flash noted as he came to a stop, his usual first tactic on villains like this one: tick them off. "You just can't help yourself, can you, _Kid_ Kold?"

Back when he was partnered up with Jinx, Kid Flash had come across the teen villain Kid Kold, with an obvious ice theme and an itchy trigger finger for his cold gun.

As far as Kid Flash's rogues' gallery went, the boy was an embarrassment. In that first bout, Kold's partner/sister, Ice Kate, swiped his gun in the middle of the fight and took charge, leaving him to Wally and Jinx's mercy and to a humiliating defeat… all the more humiliating when Jinx, his ex-girlfriend, told him she "traded up."

His thrill-seeking hobby became a vendetta; Kid Kold had it out for Kid Flash ever since. When Kid Flash matured and put away the "Kid" moniker, Kid Kold changed his name as well:

"It's _Captain_ Cold!"

Kid Flash had to join in, remembering an old pet peeve from his stories. "Oh, is that why you use an _ice_ gun?"

"For your fangirl over there, it's a _cold_ gun."

She was going to make him eat that insult. "I'll show you who's a fangirl, Private Popsicle…"

"_Kid." _A red arm crossing her path gave her pause; the Scarlet Speedster's fatherly tone, though, was more than enough to halt her in her tracks.

"Or… maybe I'll take his friends?" She appealed, since the guys were using the standoff to load up more jewels.

"Fine." She was already here, so she might as well be of use. "But watch yourself."

Kid Flash raced off. She may have slipped up during her first day out, but her year of experience would pay off.

The first of Cold's conspirators had not pointed his handgun yet, and she took that opening to strike his chest, face, and wrist. As he fell, she grabbed the gun he dropped and pulled it apart, tossing a piece at one unlucky man holding a case of spoils. Distracted by the sting, the second dropped his case on his foot. His standing on one leg just made it easier for Kid Flash to trip him, take his head and slam it forward into the pavement.

The third man had his gun ready, though—narrowly missing both his comrades and Kid herself. She countered three avoided shots with right hook to the jaw, a snatch of his gun, and a leg sweep taking him to the ground. She dropped her foot into his gut, using just enough speed to stomp the air out of his lungs.

The fourth foolishly came at her from behind with a punch, but her reflexes provided time to escape. She was already behind him by the time his fist connected with her former position. She grabbed him and spun the surprised goon into a trash can.

The fifth shook in place. He figured the Flash would have been occupied with the boss—but he hadn't signed up for this kid.

"You sure you want to do that?"

"Uhh…" His gun-wielding hand jittered even faster, as if debating the brain's order.

"You _really sure_ you don't want to drop it?"

The hapless goon took a chance and pointed his gun, but his hesitation was his weakness. She was already at his side.

"Okay then!"

A backhand smashed into his nose. She disarmed him like the others, and flung him at the nearest telephone pole. A moan of pain squeaked out of his mouth.

"Hey, I gave you a chance." She shrugged.

Five down, without a scratch, and she didn't even break a sweat! "HEY, FLASH! HOW WAS THAT?"

"Not now, Kid." The veteran hero was currently occupied with dodging blasts of cold. The criminal Captain aimed low, hoping to get his legs, but the shots fired only resulted in ice pillars jutting from the asphalt. "Still a poor shot, I see!"

She sighed._ Of course he didn't see it._

"Hold still!"

"Right." Flash rolled his eyes under his mask, weaving around a cold ray now aimed at his face. Vibrating his hand to loosen it from the sidewalk, he picked up and tossed a small piece of frozen pavement at the villain, who to his credit dodged out of the way. The simple distraction allowed the speedster an opening to Cold's face.

The Scarlet Speedster's victory blow came up short, however, when he found himself a lot colder along the way—and running at normal speed.

"What just-?"

His surprise caused him to miss, taking a punch from Cold's fist for the first time in years.

"What's wrong, Flash?" Cold smirked. "Out of gas?"

He rubbed his jaw. "What's your trick, Leo?"

His eye twitched—he hated that the red racer knew his real name, but not the other way around. All the same, he figured he'd tell. "I'm generating a field of cold around me. Slows down your molecules."

"How are you-?"

He threw another punch, hitting its mark.

"Looks like I'm just as fast as you!"

A third punch came the Scarlet Speedster's way…

"Maybe, Cold…"

But the fist's path halted, caught in his hand.

"But I'm still a pretty good fighter."

Getting a hand around the Captain's wrist, the red racer yanked his opponent forward and planted his fist into the bridge of his nose. A three-punch combo of his own quickly felled the chilled criminal, who fell back but stumbled to a knee. The field of cold he made around himself had also dissipated. Perhaps, Wally assumed, the device making the field broke in the fall.

His cold gun, however, was tightly held the entire time. The Flash had to give him a little respect for that, and for the fact that the punches had not knocked him out like they did once before. His time in Iron Heights must have given him a little endurance.

All the same, Leo needed to be stopped, so the Flash gave his ultimatum.

"I'll only ask once, Cold! Put down the gun, and put your hands in the air!"

Captain Cold did something that the Flash thought he would never do:

He gave up without a fight.

"Alright."

He put his unoccupied hand up, an apparent surrender. The gun-wielding hand laid the device onto the ground, and the Flash snatched it out of Cold's reach.

The Flash momentarily turned around to check for the police to round up his old foe and friends…

…when he felt a chill in the air.

Kid saw it. "LOOK OUT!"

Her warning and his metahuman reflexes saved him from getting his head frozen solid, courtesy of a cold ray that instead grazed his shoulder. Stopping his evasion at the side of his sort-of-sidekick, he figured out the cause of the attack.

"Cold…"

The criminal captain fired the ray _from his hands_.

"You're a metahuman?"

"Just like you, Flash!" He smiled smugly.

"But… how?"

"Let's just say I got a little work done before I stopped by," he answered. "How else do you think I made this snowstorm?"

"So the robbery was a distraction!"

"A little. Those losers were supposed to distract you, but that brat came along and nearly spoiled the surprise!" A blue aura condensed around his hands, his cold field restored. "But it all worked out. If you're still not a block of ice, I can show you the grand finale!"

He unleashed his power and shot at the ground. The humid summer air was a useful conduit for him to create a towering platform of ice, breaking into the blacktop from the weight.

"When I'm done with you and this place, Flash," Cold's icy eyes practically shone with malice, "All that'll be left is a frozen graveyard!"

He shot into the sky as well, intensifying the blizzard around him even further. The agitated weather forced the winds carrying through town to grow in strength.

The gale-force winds made people into nature's puppets and the smallest items into projectiles. What snow wasn't thrown into the eyes of Keystone's citizens began to smother the buildings in a blanket of freezing water and fear.

One pair of snow-blind civilians, a husband and wife, stumbled into the street, a driver's skidding car coming into their path. Kid saw the tragedy waiting to happen and was about to grab the two, when a field of energy reached out and slowed the vehicle.

"GET MOVING!"

"Hornet?" Kid masked her relief with a quip. "What took you so long, slug-bug?"

"I had to get dressed." He wiped the snow off his goggles with the sleeve of one of Jai's old jackets. "I think I'm getting this suit remade with sleeves from now on."

The three heroes reunited behind a car recently frozen over.

"He's not in this for money anymore. He's just tearing things apart with this storm." The Scarlet Speedster lamented his enemy's descent. "I knew he'd gone bitter… but I never thought he'd take it this far."

"A snowstorm in the summer... This guy's breaking the laws of Kansas and nature."

"We flip off the laws of physics every day," Kid shrugged. "So what's the plan, Flash?"

While he'd never dealt with a Captain Cold like this, he had dealt with unruly weather before. "If we run around the perimeter of the storm and work our way in, we'll destabilize it. Close enough, the funnel should be enough to shake him off his tower, maybe even carry him out of the city."

"And no civilians around means you won't have to hold back!"

Kid could tell the Flash was raising an eyebrow under the cowl.

"You know, hypothetically."

"And me?" Hornet asked.

"You keep doing what you're doing, getting the people to safety." The speedster added, "Nice save with that couple, by the way."

"Thanks."

Kid huffed. _Even __Hornet's__ getting more credit than me!_

She shook it off. She had a job to do. "Yeah, whatever, good deal! Can we just do this thing?"

"Right." With a nod, he signaled. "GO!"

They were off. The red-and-yellow streaks approached the tower of ice, but turned as they reached the fringe of the cold storm, their straight line they created becoming a circle intermingled with lightning. The circle slowly began to close in.

Kid Flash felt the chill start to seep through her suit.

The voice beside her yelled, "I know it's cold, but the speed will keep it off!"

"S-sure!" She cried through chattering teeth.

The Flash, deciding to take the bulk of the work onto himself, sped up and went ahead…

And in moments, passed her by.

Then he did it again.

Kid Flash's chuckle fell into the winds. _No one's lapped me since forever ago._

As they continued, Captain Cold, lost in the power, flung waves and spikes of ice from his hands, rushing his mission of destruction. He threw at the speedsters and the city at large everything he could.

One of his attacks was bound to be a lucky shot. Kid made her way past a spike of ice that had formed before her, but did not notice a second attack from above.

The Flash did.

"Kid, MOVE!"

"Wha-"

She didn't get to answer, as she was shoved out of the way of a series of icicles, sharp as knives and cutting through the air just the same. The Scarlet Speedster slowed his run and jumped into hers. He took the blades to the arm and leg in her place.

"AGH!"

Emerald eyes widened in shock.

"DAD!"

The man's pain threw him off his path, and an overturned truck became his brakes. If not for the Speed Force, his bones would have shattered from the impact.

She stopped her run and made it to his position. Her eyes watered at the sight of her father's skewered limbs.

"Dad, no… why'd you do that?" She blinked away the tears which threatened to freeze on her skin. "You shouldn't have done that! I could have-"

"I couldn't let you get hurt."

"But…"

She couldn't finish her sentence. She may have felt betrayed before, but a year ago or now, she would have done the same thing for him.

With her father out of the fight, however, there was only one option.

"Flash…"

"You're going, aren't you?"

She said nothing.

"But Kid…" Flash groaned. "You can't."

"I have to."

"He's too much for a rookie like you. You push yourself too hard, and that storm he made will chew you up and spit you out. You'll be worse off than me!" He winced as his body adjusted to another wave of pain.

"Dad, I-"

"If I can't do this, then you can't-"

"SHUT UP!"

He did so, if only out of shock.

"Look, I know I've messed up before, and maybe I'm nothing but a disappointment to you." She stood stronger. "But I'm still a Flash, whether you like it or not! And I'm gonna save this city, whether you want me to or not!"

He realized it now.

She wasn't asking for permission.

She was giving him notice.

"And besides, we're still family, right?"

She begged him to understand:

"Isn't a parent supposed to have a little faith in his daughter?"

The Flash—no, Wally West, the father, stopped and took in her words.

He took a breath, and exhaled his worry.

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

She looked back. The icy tempest was still swirling, still trying to pull the city apart.

"I'll have to be."

"Then go! And Kid…"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

Kid Flash took off, plunging into the cold like a diver into the deep end.

The air itself _hurt_. The cold shredded through her very molecules as she tightened the circle. The criminal Captain had lost track of her and the Flash long ago, maddened with power and with what he thought was a victory against his greatest rival. She did her best to avoid the random blasts he sent her in every direction, keeping the ring around him as consistent as possible, ever closer.

Ushering one group from their hail-battered bus to the nearest office building, Hornet looked out to the cold storm.

He didn't have to see it.

He knew she was running.

"You can do it, Kid!"

At a frozen car's remains, the Flash forced his body's healing process into overdrive. He would probably not be able to join in time.

"Run, Iris!"

But he could still cheer her on.

"RUN!"

And run she did, pushing past the pain that made her limbs ache and vision start to blur. She couldn't hear the voices calling out to her, but knew what was at stake.

Her birthplace. Her family. Her closest friend.

_I have to protect them all!_

Even as a few blasts of cold dashed past, threatened to take a piece of her body with them, that single thought kept her feet moving.

The vibrations she made in the air finally affected the ice pillar, where cracks made their way through. The freezing vortex began to lose its shape.

"What?" The Captain began to lose balance. The funnel made by her spin lifted him from the roots of ice he planted over his feet. "NO!" He was helpless floating in the air, his aim ever suffering.

Her hand at last reached Captain Cold's pillar. Willing her hand to vibrate, she dug a ring into the structure, making it splinter down to the core.

"Come on! COME ON!"

She was reaching her limit, and her scream let her show it.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Just when she thought she could run no more, it happened.

**BOOM.**

The ice tower shattered, thankfully missing the still-running speedster. Losing his concentration, the frozen felon fell, his monument and weather collapsing around him.

His fall was not painless, as the minute he connected with the earth, Kid Flash left her ringed path and rained blows into him every time she passed. His cold field was no match for her accumulated speed.

A left fist charged with yellow lightning as she slowed, dealing a punch so hard it launched him sidelong into a brick wall. His unconscious body left an icy sheen at the point of impact, then collapsed into a heap.

A drained Kid Flash stumbled from near-exhaustion, rolling painfully to a stop. Her arms and legs felt like they were on fire. It was worth it, though; the skies already began to calm, the winds quieted, and the snowfall ended.

She did it.

She would have been content to lay there and drift off to sleep, even on the cold sidewalk, but someone was there to get her back on her feet. A scarlet arm wrapped around her waist, and a few words whispered into her ear.

"Good job, Kid."

"Dad?" Just moving her lips made her feel tired. "You're okay!"

She looked up to see her father, back on his feet. Attributed to the Force the family shared, the Flash's wounds were almost gone, though bare skin showed where the icicles made their mark.

"I'm not done running just yet."

The civilians left their hiding places, seeing the heroes standing victorious, and gave their appreciation.

"Yeah, Flash!"

"He did it again!"

"What about that girl Flash too?"

"That's a girl?"

"FLASH RULES!"

They cheered on. They didn't see exactly who was creating the yellow lightning during the storm, after all, only knowing who it represented, and grateful all the same.

Kid simply let her mind drift into unconsciousness, noticing a green object in the sky fly closer. She was just fine letting her dad take the glory.

It was strange, but…

She really didn't need it.

* * *

Back at the West home, the Flashes rested their bodies, but their hearts still had more to unload. The parent and child asked to be alone, talking in her room to finish their conversation.

"Dad, the reason I came here was something even I wasn't sure about. I thought it was just that I missed you. And I wanted to tell you off at the same time, too. But I think there's something else."

"What is it?"

"When I left, you never came for me. I know I told you not to, but still… you didn't try. You didn't chase me down, you didn't even ask about me."

Kid Flash was gone from those eyes.

Only a lost daughter stayed behind.

"Did you ever even think about me? Miss me? Feel anything but angry at me?"

"Oh, Irey…" Wally placed his hands on her shoulders. "Of course. I thought about you every day. Part of me wanted to snatch you up, drag you back here, and glue your feet to floor so you wouldn't do it again. Another part of me thought you'd come to your senses and come back on your own."

His eyes looked away for only a second, a flicker of sadness passing over his face.

"You're right, I was mad at you, but I was mad at myself too, especially when you gave me that letter. And I was ashamed, because I didn't know what to do, or where or how exactly I'd pushed you away." He passed a hand through his hair. "Maybe we both needed the breather.

"And you know," he thought about it, "I think that vacation of yours worked out."

"You mean that?"

"Clearly, your time with the Titans helped you sharpen your skills. More importantly, you put those skills to work standing up for Keystone, especially when I couldn't."

"Well, I may not live here, Dad, but I wasn't gonna let it get torn apart by Captain Crapsicle! Not when I could do something about it." Her voice softened. "And there was no way I was going to leave you alone like that either."

He looked down to his ring, presenting his fist before her.

"When I put on this ring, Iris, it's not for the thrill of the fight, or the glory that comes with the name of the Flash, and it's _definitely_ not to get anyone's approval."

Iris looked down bashfully at her lap, as he continued.

"Every time I put on this ring, and wear the suit, it's my chance to make the world a better place—not just for me, but for you, for this family, for everyone, even if it means giving everything I have to make it happen.

"Today, you showed me you understand what that chance really meant. This isn't some game or an ego boost, but a duty. The lightning bolt I wear—that _we_ wear—is a symbol of that duty." He touched her locket, a finger tapping the jagged shape. "And you reminded me that when doing that duty's hard, when times get tough, sometimes you just need to have a little faith. It might be in a partner..."

"Or in your family?" Iris finished.

"Right."

"I'm glad you put your faith in me, Dad."

"I'm glad too." He reached back. "Which is why I'd be honored to hand _this_ down to you."

He pulled from his pocket a small box colored sun-yellow. He flicked it open to show the ring inside, a red lightning bolt cutting across a brass and yellow circle.

"You're…" Iris couldn't believe it. "You're giving me your-"

"Yep."

Wally gave a smile a mile wide.

"Congratulations, _Kid Flash_."

Just outside the door, Jai listened in.

He, and the nearby Martin, flinched when they heard Iris's joyous scream.

"YESYESYESYESYESYEEEES! THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!"

As she babbled more thanks, her teammate nodded contently. "I'd say that worked out, huh?"

"Heh heh, yeah… but… Listen, about earlier…" Jai brushed a hand through his hair, a gesture passed down from his father. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I was just worried, and I took it out on somebody." He glanced back at the door. "She's my big sis, ya know?"

"I know. Family's important to me too."

"You have a sister?"

An older girl in purple crossed the hero's mind.

"Something like that."

"And what about _my_ sister?" He said suspiciously.

"She's…" He couldn't answer that. "She's Iris."

Jai let that one go… for now. "Well, you keep looking out for her, alright?" He squinted. "If you don't, just remember-"

In a blink of Martin's eye, Jai was in his face with a smirk, two fingers pressed over the other boy's heart.

"She's not the only West kid with powers."

A slight shock forced Jai's hand away, and he saw his expression returned.

"I'll remember."

"Heh." Realizing it was in good fun, the son of the Flash waved off the sting. He raised his fist up for a bump. "You're alright, Martin."

Their fists met.

"You too, Jai."

* * *

"Well, today was nuts." Iris sat in her room some time later on a corner of the bed, with a new addition.

"Sure was," Martin leaned back on the bed, making the left pillow of the twin bed his own. "Meeting Mr. and Mrs. Flash, saving a city from an unnatural disaster-"

"And throwing it down against a classic baddie!" She plopped down beside him on the opposite pillow, staring into the ceiling. "That kinda felt good… well, except for the pain." She recalled his pun. "Heh, unnatural disaster. I get it."

"So, Irey," Martin was reluctant to say anything, but, "you sure you're heading back? You're not gonna stick around? You always wanted to run with the Flash, after all."

"My place is with the Titans. I already told Dad, and he gets that. I'll tell Mom and Jai too."

"Good."

He sounded relieved, and Iris caught it. "You'd miss me, huh?"

"Well," he smirked, "I could take you or leave you."

She slapped his chest, and they shared a laugh.

Silence, before Hornet brought it up.

"About what happened on the porch-"

"GRATITUDE!" She blurted out, sitting up from her spot.

"Huh?"

"Gratitude! Thanks!" Nothing came out right. "When you said… a-a-and I was… and _you, _you were so… and then… _ugh._" She stopped and took a breath. "It was a spur of the moment thing."

She was starting to wonder if that was her catchphrase by now.

"I totally made things awkward, didn't I? If I did, I swear I didn't mean to-"

"IT WAS FINE!" Martin surprised himself with his volume, his voice actually cracking a bit. "Er, I mean," he coughed, "It was fine. I'm still here, ain't I?"

His hand raised, electricity sparking.

"Besides, I told you before…"

* * *

**His hand matched hers, clad in green lightning compared to her yellow.**

"**Us freaks gotta stick together, right?"**

* * *

She raised hers, the hand gently vibrating.

"Yeah, and I'll always be thankful for that, Martin. Always."

"No problem, Irey."

Iris may have wanted to be the Flash's partner, but there was one thing the past year showed her:

_I've already got a great partner._

Their hands clasped, the energies crossing each other again.

They felt that same jolt, just a little bit stronger.

_Huh,_ he realized, _kinda like on the porch…_

"Hey," she took a moment to reflect, "since when did I let you call me Irey?"

"Well," his own cheeks warmed, "I think it was around the time you ki-"

"DINNER'S READY!" Mrs. West's cry carried through the house.

"About time!" Iris was practically starving after today's events. "You've never experienced dinner till you've eaten with the family West." She advertised, "It's not just a meal. It's a contact sport!"

"Guess I better be sure to watch my fingers."

"Don't worry, I'll set a little something aside for you." She winked. "If you can keep up."

She disappeared.

"Slag it!" He sighed, then laughed, running after her. "Wait for me!"

And so the night went. Dinner was filling, Martin found Jai to be a fellow fan of _Clash of the Planets_—a classic, as Beast Man would attest—and by tomorrow afternoon, he and Iris were on her way back west with some new souvenirs.

On the return trip to their shared home, he had already decided:

"Just wait until you meet _my_ family. It's gonna be sweet!"

**Episode 4: END**

* * *

**There you have it, folks. Family drama and super-shenanigans, in one very difficult episode to complete (law school really stretches the writing schedule). Perhaps I was a bit too ambitious this time around; I scrapped pages of writing to make this work.**

**Just be glad I didn't introduce Bart Allen into this world to complicate things further…**

**Or will I? **

…**Nah, probably not.**

**Kid Kold comes from issue 53 of the TTG! comic: "Hot and Cold." Kid Kold and his sister Ice Kate clearly referenced the Flash Rogues known as Captain Cold and Golden Glider, so it stood to reason that Kid Kold (also called "Leo" in the comic) might be the same guy as Captain Cold (Leonard Snart) in the mainstream comics—making the timeline of Earth-T even more different from the usual stories. I also decided to kick his powers up a notch to be a little closer to the New 52's version (which apparently lost those powers anyway).**

**Next time: A look into another famous family.**


	9. Episode V Part 1

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis_; **Flashback**; _**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback. **_Certain type may also be used signify **SOUND **or other dramatic_** effects **_as necessary.

I do not own _Teen Titans_. I also don't own a Batcave.

Read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Episode V, Part 1: The Wayne Family

On the outskirts of a city in the eastern US, a boy and girl in their late teens stood at the door of a stately hilltop manor. This fortress of a home had stood for over two centuries, its Gothic-styled towers protruding into the clouded sky. The trees scattered about the estate were losing their leaves, the debris giving the couple's path a soft crunch wherever they stepped. The branches left bare reached out to the visitors like gnarled fingers, a silent threat to all trespassers that something fearsome lived within.

The girl wondered if the estate came with its own Halloween stories, but then remembered the city it adjoined bore its own real terrors.

Luckily, one of those terrors fought on the city's behalf, and the two teens were going to meet him soon enough.

"Do you think it'll be okay, Damian?"

Not many people would expect the serious Teen Titan known as Robin to dress so casually out of costume, but Damian Wayne was a young man who tended to defy expectations. He wore a red hooded sweatshirt over a simple white T-shirt, dark blue sweatpants, and black sneakers. His friend wore a pair of dark jeans and a purple blouse, with purple shoes the same style as his.

"He's accepted plenty of youths into his home before, as well as women. Don't worry, Mar'i." He technically had a key, but slammed the door knocker anyway. "You'll be fine."

"But you're his son. And I'm only the daughter of…" she paused, "…how did that work out again?"

"He was a ward. Not adopted under the name, but under Father's watch." A nearly silent "hmph," with a hint of nostalgia, passed through his lips. "I still remember when he told one of his girlfriends that _I_ was a ward."

A British man of slender build opened the door. His head was bald at the top, but hair grayed to nearly white circled the sides, and a salt-and-pepper mustache graced his upper lip. His sterling blue eyes captured every detail of the youngest of the Wayne family. His black business suit was flawless, as clean as the rest of the home he had watched over for the past near-half-century.

"Master Damian!" The wizened face bore a gentle smile, bearing a grandfather's joy. "It has been a dog's age since I laid eyes on you in person." His voice suddenly depicted his frailty, a crack hanging every few words. "I had hoped you would not forget this old home, and its loyal caretaker?"

The boy caught the joke—a benefit of living around his brand of humor. "No one could forget a man like you, Alfred." He introduced the man. "This is Alfred Pennyworth: the finest butler a man could ask for, and the maker of the best waffles on three continents."

Damian was not joking about either label. Alfred had been a loyal assistant since the days of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Damian's grandparents, and despite the difficulties and surprises faced by the family—even when the current master of the house began to engage in a unique gamut of nightly escapades—the man's allegiances had never strayed.

"I am humbled." His eyes appeared to twinkle at the sight of his young master's companion. "Ah, and to return with a woman at your side? You truly are turning out like your father!"

Damian refused to answer that directly. "I'd say that's enough joking for now, Alfred."

"Indeed, sir. I suppose I am delaying your reunion." The old aide beckoned, "Welcome back to Wayne Manor. Please follow me, and I welcome you as well, Miss…"

"Grayson. Mar'i Grayson."

"Yes, miss Grays—MISS GRAYSON!" He shifted his glasses for a better look at her, his mind passing over the decades in seconds. "Of course, I should have seen it. You have Master Dick's hair." That name had not left his lips in what felt like eons. "This meeting is long overdue!"

The trio took the long walk to the master's study. The Grayson girl drank in the history of the place: a family line displayed in paintings along the hallway; the trophies of the clan's fathers and sons; the favored possessions of the wives and daughters.

A pearl necklace, in particular, caught her eye.

Damian may have told her about some of his life in Gotham, but Mar'i knew he could never have adequately related all of this to her, even if he tried.

The butler halted at a polished wooden door, reaching out to knock, but a voice preempted his action.

"Alfred?"

"Your senses are still impeccable, sir. There are two young people here to see you: Master Damian and a," he suppressed a grin, "Miss Grayson."

They heard an abrupt scrape of wood against wood.

The study's entrance opened, the wealth of knowledge behind it only barely seen by the visitors. What was more important was who stood in the doorway.

"Hello, Damian."

Standing before him was a Caucasian man of solid muscle, easily surpassing six feet in height; were he standing in the sun, his broad-shouldered body would cast a shadow swallowing the boy whole. His suit, while decades old, suffered neither speck nor spot, a testament to his elderly aide's decades of professional work—as well as the man's own practice, to prepare for the worst.

Wrinkles crept at his eyes, and gray hair asserted itself at his temples, but those who had seen his other face would never count his age against him.

His eyes, as blue as an ocean, were witnesses to sights never believed and stories never spoken, his adventures as a young playboy included. They were placid, accepting, but could turn tempestuous at any moment.

Mar'i couldn't help but stare.

_They almost remind me of Damian's, but so much deeper, stronger._

Indeed, the times shared by the two had given them similar outlooks on the world, and slightly similar personalities…

…though some would say their likeness was simply in the blood.

"It's nice to see you again, Father."

Their hands shook and eyes met. On the outside, only tight-lipped smiles were exchanged, but the girl who watched them could somehow feel the strength of their bond.

Breaking away, the man greeted his guest.

"And Mar'i Grayson—or should I say, Nightstar?"

Her eyes widened. "You know me?"

"Of course. Your father may have pursued a career of his own, but we still contact each other from time to time," he explained. "I might have some of your baby pictures around here somewhere."

He extended a hand to her, a move he'd performed countless times in two different lives.

"Bruce Wayne."

Mar'i returned his gesture. About forty years ago, he might have made girls her age blush from the touch; now, she felt a quiet power that made her lose focus in a different way.

"It's an honor, Mr. Bruce-um, Mr. Bat-er, Wayne! MISTER WAYNE!" She could have slapped herself. _I'm behaving worse than M'gann! _"I am so sorry. It's just that, Damian and Dad have talked about you for years, and now I'm finally meeting… well, you know."

"You're feeling overwhelmed, and the… 'hype' surrounding me probably hasn't helped." He had seen through her, of course. "But rest assured, I won't hold it against you. Truth be told, I've wanted to meet you for quite a while as well."

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

It didn't take a detective's mind to realize that the less she spoke right now, the better off she would be.

"I trust that the trip from the airport went smoothly?"

"Swift as always." His son fielded the question. "Your cars always seem to have an extra something, Father."

"Julia's a skilled mechanic," Bruce replied. Alfred's daughter, a product of the international adventures he had in his prime, was currently a high-ranking employee of WayneTech, and privy to a few of the Wayne family secrets.

As the two went on, the houseguest groaned in humiliation. "I feel like such an idiot right now."

"Master Bruce has tended to have that effect on the fairer sex." The old Brit overheard her. "I believe his advice should be heeded, Miss Grayson. Do not reflect too harshly upon yourself."

"Please," she avoided formality, "just call me Mar'i."

"_Miss_ Mar'i, then," he winked. "May I offer you some refreshment after your journey?"

"No, thank you."

"Then I instead offer something in confidence: Some women have confounded even him."

"Really?"

"Yes, and Master Damian's mother was but one of them. If time allows, perhaps I can regale you with the time he met a fascinating woman by the name of Se-"

"_Alfred." _Bruce cut in. "Weren't you preparing supper?"

"Hmm, indeed. I believe I shall continue, sir." Were Alfred a petty man, he would have laughed at the idea of his master wanting to hide past romances. Instead, he chose to keep his amusement tightly contained, its only release through an upturned corner of his lips. "I hope to speak with you again soon, Miss Mar'i."

"Thanks in advance, Mr. Pennyworth!"

He smiled fully, the grandfather in him welcoming another youth into the familial embrace.

"Please, you need only call me Alfred."

Mar'i watched him stride confidently through the labyrinth of hallways, off to the kitchen.

She liked him.

"While he gets ready, we can get everyone together."

Bruce ushered his son and guest along, and another journey through the hallways began.

"They should be wrapping up their spar right about now."

* * *

"I'll get you this time…"

Near the rear of the Wayne estate, a man in his mid-twenties waited for just the right time to strike, his vision restricted by darkness. Automated windows allowed only a faint light to filter through. His short black hair was mostly smoothed by gel but had a slightly spiked fringe in front. His eyes were sky blue, a brighter color than those of the other men of the house. His gray tank top clung to his muscled form due to stretching and sweat.

"Unlikely." A woman's voice echoed all around him, a ghost all its own. "You know I've always been better at stealth than you."

He tried calming his mind, but the anticipation was getting to him.

Not fear, though, no. He didn't fear her, not the woman he shared a tub of ice cream with last weekend; chocolate always was her favorite.

He'd promised to buy her a freezer's worth if she beat him today…

But that wasn't going to happen, since a flicker at the edge of his sight caught his attention.

_There!_

"HA!"

He tossed a shuriken…

And heard only a piece of metal knocking against a lonely wall.

"I know I-" A sudden loss of balance halted his thought. "CRAP!"

The slam resounded through the room.

He felt a weight on his chest, forcing out his breath.

The culprit of his downfall was a woman in a tight black tank top and pants, her straight dark-brown hair reaching her chin, framing a face with subtle Asian features and sapphire eyes that seemed to shine even in the blackness. Her skin was of a sandy brown shade.

She looked down at her victim, sporting a tight-lipped smirk.

"I win."

He grinned back, a hand ghosting from the floor and over her thigh.

"You win. So…"

The fire in her eyes reflected in his own.

"…what's your next move?"

Someone else's voice answered for her.

"Hopefully, you'll get off of him, before I lose my breakfast."

The voice was from none other than Damian, looking annoyed in the doorway with his friend and his father close behind. Reaching the switch, the lights activated, revealing a series of shelves filled with staffs, punching mitts, blunted throwing stars, and other tools designed to force a fighter into shape or submission. In an adjacent room were the exercise machines.

The victorious woman had removed herself, poised calmly as if the last long minute had never happened.

The man stifled a groan, his fun over. Dusting himself off, he gave a begrudging, "Hey there, Damian."

"Hello, _Drake_," his junior greeted tonelessly. "I'm guessing you're feeling better."

"I'm doing just fine." Drake flexed a muscle, proud of his recovery and even prouder of what his hard work reproduced.

Damian's voice dulled its edge, ever so slightly, when he saw the woman.

"Hello, Cassandra."

She stepped over and placed her hands on his shoulders, saying nothing, then yanking him in for a hug.

"Hello, little brother."

It was then that Mar'i Grayson, the half-human daughter of superheroes, the housemate to two metahumans and a girl from Mars, beheld something truly unprecedented…

Damian Wayne hugged back.

"Mar'i, this is Cassandra Wayne," he introduced, "my sister."

The visitor's dropped jaw could have broken through the floor. It wasn't the fact that Damian had a sister, since she knew of her some time ago. "You're…"

It was because she quickly realized that Cassandra took on another name.

"You're Batgirl!"

Cassandra Wayne carried the mantle passed down by the first. Among Damian's elders, she had fought for a shorter time than the men, but her skills were never in doubt. After a few solo missions overseas, Chinese triads came to fear a new legend: The Black Bat of Hong Kong.

Ever since then, she considered changing her name…

"And you're the infamous Mar'i. Welcome." Despite her words, the woman's face was still. She appeared to be sizing up her junior, who could only wonder:

_Does everyone in this family have that stare?_

"Um, hi, Cassandra." The Grayson girl gulped. "Is there something on my face, or…?"

"There's no need to be anxious." A smile, light like her steps in the darkness, spread across Cassandra's face. "After all these years, I suppose I still intimidate unfamiliar people."

"It must run in the family," The girl quipped, awkwardness mostly gone. "Damian always seems to scare one person or another whenever we go out together."

"Go out together?" An eyebrow rose in amusement. "He never told me about that."

"Wait, did you say, 'the _infamous_ Mar'i?'"

"Yes. He's given you plenty of praise. Isn't that right, little brother?" Cassandra's sly gaze fell onto her sibling, who quickly found the far wall of the gym quite interesting.

"I may have mentioned you a few times," he muttered. "I talked about the other Titans as well."

"He once said that you were the strongest girl he's ever known." Seeing the girl's face brighten a bit from the compliment, Cassandra couldn't help herself with a bit of fun: "…And the most beautiful."

"I did not say that!" He blasted. "Don't mind her, Mar'i. She's been hanging around Drake too much."

Mar'i started to play a bit too: "So you _don't_ think I'm strong?"

"Of course I do!"

"And…" her cheeks reddened slightly, "beautiful?"

His mouth clamped shut.

Of course, the older sister played along. "You should answer her, Damian."

Thankfully—or not, Damian wasn't sure—someone else jumped in. "Well, well, well! I never thought I'd see the day that young Robin finally found love." Drake walked over to Mar'i. "And if I may say so, with such a lovely-looking young lady." He introduced himself. "Tim Drake. Call me Tim, even if he doesn't."

"Mar'i Grayson. Just 'Mar'i' is fine."

"Grayson, huh? About time." While shaking her hand, Tim questioned Damian. "Seriously? You and Nightwing's daughter? I imagine her old man's not too happy about that."

Like with Alfred, he chose not to answer directly. "That's quite a statement coming from you, Drake."

"Hey, how our partnership works is none of your business. Bruce gets that, but I guess you still don't, kid."

The youngest Wayne put up an index finger. "First, it becomes my business when I'm in the same room."

The two may have lived there first, but Damian still didn't appreciate Drake and Cassandra's subtle displays of "partnership" around the house. Besides the question of whether Drake technically counted as a "brother" despite not taking the last name, it boggled the teen's mind why his elder "siblings" spent so much time together.

Damian found Cassandra just fine. They bonded from the first time they sparred, their similarities bringing them closer. Drake, on the other hand, was insufferable…

…especially as one of the few uninjured people on Earth who dared to call Damian by _that word_.

"And second, I am _not a child_."

"What's that? Speak up!" Tim cupped his ear. "I can't hear you from way down there." Damian had certainly grown since his first days in the manor, at last reaching Cassandra face to face, but he stubbornly came a few inches short of Tim's height.

Damian's fuse was even shorter, when it came to him.

"Then maybe I should cut you down to size."

It seemed that Tim was just as anxious for a reunion fist-to-fist. The boys began to walk to the sparring ground when…

"Tim!/Damian!"

Both stopped, facing the disapproving glares and folded arms of their counterparts.

One reminded the elder, "You know not to provoke him with that word!"

Tim bashfully looked away. "Sorry, Cass."

"And you!" The other chided the junior. "He's your family, isn't he? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, Mar'i." Inwardly, while he couldn't fight Drake, Damian could certainly beat up himself. He was Robin, after all; a Teen Titan, and a leader at that! He was supposed to be poised! "Drake just… brings that out of me."

"Well, put it back in, okay?" Her glare gone, her hand laid onto his arm. "You almost scared me for a minute."

"I…" No mask was there to hide his shame. "I didn't want you to see that."

"It's okay. You've seen me at my best—and at my worst." She shuddered at the memories of her Tamaranean transformation, especially the cravings; the Titans' favorite pizza place set aside two extra bottles of hot sauce—to _drink_—at her table ever since. "It's only fair I see you too. Besides, I know a little something about annoying family. Hornet's bugged me a couple of times too, remember?" The boy she once knew as a 'little twip' took her diary once, and she nearly leveled the Tower's living room trying to make him pay. "We all have our bad days."

"I agree with Mar'i," Bruce finally spoke. "Save your energy for more productive efforts."

Bruce had watched patiently this entire time, letting the ladies settle the incident. He had seen this sort of thing before, of course, growing up with Damian's temper, back when it was less restrained.

When Damian first arrived, he had the impression that he deserved to be at his father's side in the field by talent and birthright. He saw Tim's brimming confidence in being Red Robin as an implicit mockery, taunting the young Wayne with a position he did not yet have.

Tim, meanwhile, thought the boy was too arrogant for his own good. Sure, Damian was skilled, but so were the others in the family, and they weren't all trained by assassins as toddlers. The "kid," in his mind, had basically stepped into the Cave and demanded a mask, nowhere near ready to earn his wings.

And so, they chafed, and it didn't help that that Tim's temper could be far from calm as well…

* * *

"**What's wrong, kid? Step it up!" Tim told his twelve-year-old opponent, currently the victim of a staff's strike to the leg. "You once told me you were trained by the best, right?"**

**He heard the boy growl, but he kept going.**

"**Now you knew the best, but I was trained by Bruce Wayne, and he's **_**beaten**_** the best." Tim reminded him. "He's beaten your granddad, at least, and probably would have taken your mom down too back in the day, if not for, well... you."**

**Damian rose from the ground.**

"**So, you gonna go again?" Tim asked. "Or are you going to run back home to mommy?"**

**The boy may have been on the other end of the sparring ground, but he still dealt a blow:**

"**At least I still **_**have**_** a mother."**

**Tim dropped the staff, stunned silent.**

**Then he wasn't.**

"**THAT'S IT!"**

**He charged, Damian casting his blade aside and running in with his bare hands.**

"**COME ON, THEN!"**

**Their spar, now something else entirely, began anew…**

* * *

Bruce grounded them both from the Cave for two weeks after that—and he kept Damian's sword locked away for a month longer, just in case.

He muttered partly to himself, "Sometimes I wonder where he gets it from."

"There's a simple answer to that, Father." Cassandra informed him: "He gets it from you."

"Yes, well…" He coughed into his hand, then addressed the sparring partners. "Since we have company, you'll both be taking a break."

"Good," Tim rubbed his hands in anticipation. "I am starving."

"Getting your butt handed to you will do that, I suppose," Damian jibed.

"Upstairs, Tim." Cassandra pulled him along before another spat could start.

"You heard _him_ start it, right? Not me?"

Sometimes she wondered if her teammate was as mature as he looked. "I heard, Tim…"

As the older couple went to get cleaned up, the younger duo headed to the dining room, once again following Bruce's lead.

"You know," Mar'i stepped beside Damian, sauntering at his own pace, "you didn't exactly answer my question."

He stared forward. "What question?"

She smirked. "You know which one."

Damian walked a little faster.

"We should get to supper."

Mar'i frowned, determined.

She'd get that answer out of him later.

* * *

"…He came at us one last time, but Mom and I flew in together and BAM! We knocked him clear across the park! I think the whole city heard that boom when he landed!"

Mar'i had just about finished narrating her first adventure as a Teen Titan. An old enemy named Adonis, who wore an obnoxiously bright red exosuit to augment his size and strength, came back to Jump City wreaking havoc.

Damian had heard it before, hearing the same passion in her voice now that she possessed at the age of fourteen.

"We took a picture after the win." She took out her Titan Communicator. Much like a smartphone, it did not only relay messages, but could act as a camera, with its own storage of data. "It should be on here somewhere." With a few taps on her T-Comm—"Here it is!"—she displayed the photo itself, shooting up from the device's screen as a hologram.

Back then, Nightstar and Hornet were the only teens among the Titans, the Founding Five watching over them, so the picture captured seven heroes celebrating their victory. She pointed each person out.

"That's me with my mom and dad."

Nightstar was on the right in front. Behind her, Starfire and Nightwing each placed a hand on the girl's shoulders. The mother was a sun of happiness, and even with a mask, the Waynes could plainly see the pride in the father's eyes.

"Right next to me is Hornet with Cyborg."

Hornet, left of Nightstar on the photo, had his godfather's hand on his head. Bruce knew well the emotion on Cyborg's partly metallic face. A picture in the Batcave, in a file for his eyes only, showed the same emotion from him toward his very first partner.

Pride, of course, but something more as well.

"That's Beast Man, and that's Raven."

Beast Man and Raven took opposing sides of the group. Raven stood on the right side of the photo next to Nightwing, her hood removed and her hands clasped. Her lips barely parted, but her smile was sincere. Beast Man, on the left next to Cyborg, appeared to be in mid-cheer, a fist still pumped while he gave a brilliant grin baring his fangs.

"He's greener than Poison Ivy—or maybe that Martian girl you were talking about." He pointed out, "You know, with all the characters we meet in this city, I don't think I've actually come across an alien before."

"After spending time in the Justice League," Bruce remarked, "you get somewhat used to it."

Supper had arrived, a dish with roasted chicken at the center. Mar'i marveled at the meat's tenderness.

"Well, I've been giving all of you my story, and I know Damian's, but I have to ask: how did you three find each other?"

"I was the first to come." Tim told his tale. "I guess, like Bruce, I had it all at first: a good family, a good home. Then my mother got sick, and my father had to take a new job to pay the bills. Not long after Mom passed away, Dad found out his employer wasn't so clean. That put a target on his head. He didn't want me mixed up in it, so he ran." He shut his eyes. "I haven't seen him since.

"For the first time in my life, I was alone.

"But I always held onto one truth: No matter how much my life sucked, no matter who ruined my life, there were still heroes among us, making other lives better." He glanced to Bruce. "Batman and Robin—your dad, Mar'i—they were my idols. I'd followed them ever since the… er…" he hesitated to say it in front of her, "the Flying Grayson murders."

She nodded solemnly, wanting to know more.

"But unlike with your dad, Bruce didn't find me, I found him. I'd been looking into the secret identities of the Dynamic Duo for years, and when I figured them out, I sought out Batman himself…"

"And you asked him to be Robin?"

"More precisely," Bruce added, "he asked to be my new partner."

"Because I couldn't and wouldn't be Robin," Tim explained. "The original deserved his respect, and he was still running around with the name, as far as I knew, anyway."

"Which is how you ended up as-"

"Red Robin." He grinned. "A name all my own."

"As you can see, Mar'i, he really thinks outside the box." His junior let slip a smirk as he gulped down some vegetables.

"Nobody asked for your opinion, Damian."

As the boys glared at each other from across the table, Mar'i tried to move on. "So what about you, Cassandra?"

"I was born to kill."

The girl's fork dropped from her fingers.

"Oh."

"Did I disturb you?"

"No, I'm just surprised. The chances of…" She knew of Damian's heritage, to an extent. "Please, go on."

Cassandra obliged. "The man who sired me, David Cain, was an assassin." He was, in fact, part of the League of Assassins, the same one led by Talia al Ghul, before disagreements forced him out. "He chose me to be his legacy—his perfect weapon. I wasn't taught to read, to write, or even to speak. I was taught to take a life, in a myriad of ways."

She paused, her blue eyes cold with regret.

"And then I did."

She could still see him.

"I was only eight years old then, but I could still understand how my target felt as he died. His fear, his confusion, his powerlessness… then, a nothingness."

She took a breath, forcing the image to retreat.

"I could never do it again, so I ran. Years later, I found myself here, in Gotham City. No food, no home, only the name and the lessons that Cain gave me. The original Batgirl found me, and took me in. I've been a part of this family ever since."

"That's why you're a Wayne, isn't it?"

"Yes. Bruce has been more of a father to me than David Cain ever was." Her small smile was filled with admiration. "He helped me claim my own life, and make my own choice." She looked directly at the man, their eyes locking in understanding. "I chose to fight under his symbol, and I always will."

"When I was really little, I wondered if I'd be just like _my_ father. I even thought up the name Nightingale as my super-name, to match his bird theme."

Somewhere in a room of Titans Tower, a child's picture hid: a girl in a black and purple costume, designed just like his.

"As my powers developed, though, I began matching with my mother more. Eventually, I picked a name to honor them both." Mar'i laughed, "Plus, I think I like brighter colors too much!"

"Who knows?" Tim broke from his glare at Damian to chime in. "Maybe your kid will follow in his granddad's footsteps."

"He could be a _she_, Tim," Cassandra pointed out.

"A girl as Nightwing?" He shrugged. "Sounds just as cool if you ask me."

Mar'i agreed, but had to ask the living legend himself. "And you, Mr. Wayne?"

He had already finished his meal, waiting patiently for her to ask the question. It amazed her how he could seem to mask his presence even in plain sight.

"What made you want to… you know?"

"My parents were killed before my eyes." The sound of twin gunshots was still as crisp in his memory as it was in his childhood. "There was no assassination. No supervillain attack. A mugger gunned down my parents, and left a nine-year-old boy with two graves to fill.

"My becoming an orphan was a symptom of the crime that plagued my city—my home, and the home of others who suffered as well. I resolved to make myself into a weapon turned against that crime.

"In my travels, I've learned that crime can not only be guided by impure hearts or be born from desperation, but also moved by fear."

Mar'i felt something in the air… shift.

_Did it get colder?_

"I decided to turn that fear into my weapon."

"A bit like Dad," she noted.

"Yes." His sight grew distant, looking at another time. "Dick was certainly driven."

"All these years, and he never told me…" She quieted. "What caused him to leave?"

Bruce turned his head away, just like his son had done to avoid a topic or two in the past. His jaw was tight, as if part of him physically wished to keep it inside.

A familiar sight, however, changed his train of thought, and he broke the silence with a compromise.

"That's a story for another time."

She followed his gaze to the window, seeing something outside.

A searchlight shone into the sky. A symbol reflected on the city's clouds…

_His _symbol.

"Right now…"

That earlier shift in the air intensified; a curtain finally pulled back; a cage unlocked.

"It's time to get dressed."

As if hypnotized, the Waynes and Drake shot up from their chairs. The houseguest watched the family dash from the room, until Damian stopped and called back to her.

"He means _all_ of us, Mar'i."

"But," It wasn't her city, and for just a moment when the room's mood shifted, she almost forgot she was a hero too. "I'm a Titan, not a-"

"We'll fit you in," Bruce assured as he returned. "After all..."

The air lost its pressure; the caged creature had receded from the door, but only for a moment.

"My son trusts you."

"Oh."

She thought that Damian's family would be different from the Titans—less giving in their secrets, and not willing to let her take part, at least so soon. Yet, here she was, about to join them in the field, in her first unofficial tour of Gotham City.

Damian was right.

Then the pressure was back. "Don't prove his trust misplaced."

She gulped. "Of course!"

A short walk later, Bruce, Damian, and Mar'i stood before a grandfather clock, its name quite appropriate: while free of dust, its parts appeared to be unmoving due to its age and lack of use. Opening the longcase, he gripped the clock's golden pendulum…

…and pulled.

A small click heralded a larger rumble; the clock moved to the side, revealing a dark passage surrounded by walls of stone and a staircase carved into the rock.

Mar'i marveled at what lie at the bottom of the stairs.

"Amazing."

A group of platforms supported by steelwork and connected by bridges stretched down into an unfathomable blackness. On one platform sat a wall with a series of shelves, filled with all sorts of gadgets for traversal and combat. One platform with a gigantic computer displayed on its screen the symbol of the Gotham City's greatest protector.

Damian announced the name of the hero's lair.

"Welcome to the Batcave."

Tim and Cassandra were almost done with getting dressed.

Tim's uniform consisted of a red long-sleeved tunic (actually, a layer of sleek armor, the same sturdy material as Robin's tunic) with black leggings and boots. Black gloves reached the forearm with three scallops on each side just before the wrists. A black cape draped over his shoulders and reached his ankles, connected to the top by a black chest harness resembling a bandolier. The two straps crossed at the center, which bore an insignia: the silhouette of a black bird against a yellow background.

Connected to the suit was a black cowl covering all but his mouth and giving him eyes without pupils. With the cowl on, Red Robin was ready.

Cassandra wore a completely black bodysuit, with scalloped gloves and boots the same color. Her equally dark cape was designed with what appeared to be tattered edges. The only outstanding colors were the golden utility belt around her waist, and the golden outline of a certain sigil on her chest. Her mask went over her entire head, with pointed ears poking from the top, but left no window for the eyes or mouth, making her appear faceless. Like her father, she used fear as a weapon, and the look of a featureless wraith worked nicely.

Batgirl too was ready.

By time Damian and Mar'i had changed into their guises of Robin and Nightstar, Bruce had changed into _him_.

The suit stretching over his muscular form was gray from collar to foot, but the thick-soled boots and scalloped gloves were black. As with Red Robin, a black cape and cowl covered his back and face, a sternly shut mouth revealed. However, his cowl sported pointed ears, though not sharing the length of Batgirl's suit.

With a click, the golden utility belt around his waist connected, the buckle depicting a smaller version of the symbol stretching over his chest:

Its wings outspread, a great black bat.

Bruce Wayne had retired for the night.

The cage was open, the beast finally, fully released.

Gotham City's protector, the Caped Crusader…

Batman was ready.

"Let's get to work."

**To be continued…**

* * *

**As promised, this chapter features some long-awaited time for Mar'i and Damian with the Bat-Family.**

**I took some pre-**_**Flashpoint**_** inspirations for this one due to the greater amount of material I could pick from, and because I love Cassandra Cain's Batgirl outfit. I don't know if they hung out in the comics, but it just makes sense to me that Damian and Cassandra would connect over similar origins and skills.**

**This Bruce Wayne is possibly a different one from what you've seen; he's closer to the lighter version from **_**The Batman **_**animated series, rather than a Bruce Wayne from, say, the DCAU. Twenty-plus years of family ties change people.**

**If you have any more questions, feel free to ask. Next chapter will finish the Gotham City adventure, inspired by... well, you'll see it soon.**

**Until then, Titanic readers.**


	10. Episode V Part 2

Author's Note: _Thought or Emphasis;_ **Flashback; **_**Thought or Emphasis in Flashback**_

I don't own _Teen Titans_, but I do own some Batman movie DVDs. You'll know which one inspired/was source material for this episode pretty early on.

Please read and review.

* * *

**Teen Titans: The Titans of Tomorrow**

Chapter V, Part 2: The Bat Family

Gotham City, New Jersey.

13 million people made Gotham City their home, from the wealthy inhabitants of the Diamond District to the impoverished residents of the East End. Much of Gotham's buildings were Gothic and grim, like the manor of its greatest benefactor, but the city showed signs of change, a few new buildings of glass and steel shaping the skyline. Land developers hoped the "Neo-Gotham Project," as they called it, would herald a brighter, more lucrative future for the often-struggling city.

In Gotham's oldest district stood the institution tasked to watch over this changing metropolis: the Gotham City Police Department. The GCPD had its problems in the past, from short staffing and funding issues to full-blown corruption in some of its highest offices, but its bravest souls did what they could to maintain Gotham's police as a force of good.

Two of those good cops stood on the roof of the GCPD building, where the Bat-Signal continued to shine. The signal's operator stood silent, while her boss stood in wait.

He was a bald African-American man, his dark-skinned face wrinkled by age and troubles. Considering the year, his look was quite old-fashioned: brown slacks held up by suspenders spanning over a white shirt, its sleeves rolled up despite the weather growing colder. He found the chill kept him awake on those long work nights.

A voice in the night informed him:

"I'm here."

"Batman." He turned around, not frightened by the familiar face, though he was surprised to see another person. "…and Robin? Haven't seen you in a bit." The man's years on the force led him to witness Batman's list of partners, including the first Robin and Batgirl.

The sidekick nodded, while the Caped Crusader himself greeted in words.

"Good evening, Commissioner Bennett."

Ethan Bennett had replaced James Gordon as commissioner of the GCPD only a few years ago. Jim was a good judge of character, and saw to it that the torch was passed into the right hands. Even after Jim's retirement, though, Gordon and Batman still met for coffee and a cheesesteak every New Year's.

Under the mask, Bruce liked Ethan as well, knowing him as a man of honor even before Ethan would ever wear a badge. Bruce and Ethan had been friends since childhood and all the way through high school, but they drifted apart when the young billionaire began his travels in earnest to become a bane against crime. Unlike Bennett's old partner on the force Ellen Yin, who took quite some time to convince, Bennett was on Batman's side since his days as a mere urban legend. In time Bruce and Ethan had slowly repaired their relationship, Bruce having learned that Yin had taken up leading the Special Crimes Unit alongside Maggie Sawyer in Metropolis.

Bennett had his trial by fire going up against Gotham's criminals—in one instance literally risking his sanity after being captured by one of Batman's greatest foes—but he endured, eventually earning his place as Gordon's successor.

"On the contrary, Bats, it's not so good."

The commissioner passed them the file.

"He managed to break out of Blackgate a few days back. We've tried to keep it quiet, but the press'll probably get their hands on it soon."

The man in the picture looked to be in his early thirties. His skin was a pasty white, like that of a certain villain, and the smile on his face, bearing sharpened teeth, was almost as sinister as _his_. His beady eyes were as red as his victims' blood, a sight the man always relished.

"His gang's been popping up like weeds lately, almost like they expected him to show up again," Bennett continued. "Their crimes are just as gruesome as ever though."

Continuing to look through the file, the Dark Knight did not avert his eyes from the results of one kidnapping; the parents gave the ransom, yet still received their son in far more than one piece.

"The Mutants have been a thorn in this city's side for too long, and with their leader back on the streets, it's bound to get worse."

Robin put it simply: "So you want us to crush them for you, so your police force can pick up the pieces."

"You never did mince words." Bennett's lips gave a nostalgic smile briefly, before he turned to the elder hero. "We've also got sightings of some heavy weapons popping up."

"You think they're related." It was more statement than question. At Bennett's nod, Batman decided. "We'll look into it."

"Is it really just you two tonight?" He turned to his operator, who turned off the light, then back to Batman. "This could be-"

The dynamic duo was gone, the file left soundlessly behind.

"That's still amazing." Bennett would have laughed, had he not felt a stroke of worry for Gotham's heroes. The Mutants were vicious; the commissioner had seen plenty of his men in the hospital or worse due to this recent threat. "I hope they're not outgunned."

"I wouldn't worry, sir."

The voice came from the Bat-Signal's operator, stepping forth from the searchlight's side. She was an auburn-haired woman in her thirties. Fierce green orbs were the windows to a strong spirit bidden in her petite frame. Her prior adventures before being an officer had gifted those eyes with keen awareness, quite a necessary tool for a detective.

"Gordon?"

"I get the feeling they've got plenty of help."

She looked to the right at a building's water tower, more directly into the adjacent shadows…

… and locked eyes with her former protégé, who nodded back.

Detective Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl, smiled with hope.

"They'll be just fine."

* * *

"What's the plan, Batman?"

Red Robin spoke for the whole team on a rooftop. Batgirl stood at attention, Robin leaned on a wall, and Nightstar took in the city's foreign skyline. She suppressed the growing impulse to fly for now, knowing she would be soaring high soon enough.

"The plan right now is intelligence. We don't know how big this group is, how heavily armed, or even where they are. We'll need to know them, and likely bring them together, before we…" Batman adopted his son's word, "_crush_ them."

He broke the family into teams:

"Red Robin, you and Batgirl will handle any weapons you can find."

"Got it." The man voiced his compliance, the woman nodding pensively.

Tim had been cooped up for weeks and was anxious to stretch his legs (and wings). Sparring with Cass was a nice challenge, but a round with her could never quite compare to fighting the real thing.

Cassandra was a bit relieved, hesitant to leave Red Robin alone this time after his last mission abroad resulted in his long stay inside Wayne Manor. There was, after all, a reason Robin had to leave Jump City for a Bat-Family emergency.

Under Batgirl's faceless mask was a woman who took the pain of her precious partner onto herself—just one trait among the list of things that she and her younger brother had in common. She hoped this mission would be easier.

"Robin," the youth rose to attention, "you and Nightstar will patrol for their more standard activity. They may be planning something bigger, but that doesn't mean they won't be causing trouble."

"I understand." Robin derived an implicit directive; teaming up with a familiar face would get Nightstar more acclimated to Gotham's streets.

The group began to split up, but the new team member had a question.

"What about you, Batman?"

He stopped to turn around.

"I'll catch up with one of my usual informants." He leaped off the roof and began a grapnel swing.

"Great," Robin grumbled. "He's probably talking to _her_." The woman in question had not left a good first impression… especially when she tied him up with a whip.

Nightstar was clueless.

"Who's 'her'?"

* * *

In the East End, a woman relaxed in her strangely upscale apartment, her robe draping over her curves. Dark wavy hair washed over her shoulders and chest, the interspersed strands of gray only adding an attractive sheen.

She'd always been a night owl, but for once, Selina Kyle took the night off.

Selina had done well for herself since her childhood on the streets. A few security jobs in America and abroad kept her body and mind sharp, and the high commission kept her fed and clothed in the finest garments she desired.

Best of all, after her years dodging the law—and a certain superhero—her work was entirely legitimate.

…well, mostly, anyway.

Selina had always liked a thrill, and her time as the notorious thief Catwoman gave her that in spades.

One source of her life's thrills knocked on her window. She had gotten used to it at this point—it was hard not to be after a couple decades of this—and made a way for the Dark Knight to enter.

"Hello, Selina."

"Hello, Bruce."

She had known his real name for years. After what they had been through together, she deserved to know. But whatever name he used around her, he still gave her that certain tingle up her spine whenever he got just close enough. He'd been more distant from her—in more ways than one—since the little Robin arrived, but she knew that no "insane ninja witch," as she called the other woman, could erase what Bruce and Selina had.

"This isn't a social call."

"Too bad. I was thinking of getting a little tea going." A smirk crossed her lips. "Or maybe you'd like some wine, to help you loosen up?"

"Not tonight," he played along. "There's a gang on the streets. The Mutants. I need information."

"I can't offer you much." She grimaced in disgust. "They're a bunch of maniacs. Which is saying something, considering our lines of work." She'd caught a few of the teenaged freaks leering at her across one street, a pack of dogs eyeing a piece of meat—"chicken legs," they called her—but none were quite dumb enough to try taking a bite. "One of Holly's kids almost got torn apart just talking to two of them."

Holly Robinson was the closest thing Selina had to family, someone she had taken under her wing before she had become Catwoman. Back then, both were teenagers, the younger pulled away from both a drug habit and a certain profession to pay for it. Holly's welfare was one of the many complicated reasons she chose to leap off rooftops at night.

The proceeds of the feline femme fatale's exploits carried Holly through school, with enough left over to build a life away from Gotham altogether. In the end, though, Holly came back: to help the city in her own way, and to stay close to her big sister.

Part of Holly's way to pay her back was to take teach children self-defense and, if they wanted, to become Catwoman's informants. By now, some of them had taken in or had actual children of their own. The info they collected would go to Holly, who compiled it into a portable format for Selina who, in turn, would give some of that information to Batman… or the right buyer.

"Here you go." Selina gave him her notes in the form of a memory card.

"Thank you, Selina." He placed the card into his gauntlet's hidden mini-computer, transmitting the files to be analyzed at the Batcave by Alfred. "You should stay inside. If there are more Mutants around, it might be a rough night."

"Isn't it always a rough night for someone in this town?" She dismissed. "And anyway, I'm not the one about to dive off into danger."

He continued to reach for the window sill, but a hand on his bicep stopped him.

Her brown eyes looked past the cowl of the Dark Knight, visualizing every gray hair and wrinkle decorating the temples of the human underneath. "You can't keep doing this forever."

"Nor can you." He looked back. "And yet, both of us have worn a mask this week."

"Hmph."

_Of course he knew._

"Just try not to die tonight," Selina warned, snide belying concern. "I want you alive long enough to tell me about your grandkids someday." She recalled the boy. "Speaking of kids, how is Robin anyway?"

Robin's attempt to capture her when they first met, and finding out that he was Batman's son to another woman, didn't exactly ingratiate the boy wonder to the master thief. Eventually, though, her frequent run-ins with the Bat Family left her attached to them all in different ways. She particularly liked Red Robin—unlike the little Robin, he had manners.

She may never have worn bat ears, but in their own strange way, they were her family too. That included Damian, as awkward as he looked when she pointed it out.

It was quite fun making him uncomfortable.

"That's a story for another time, Selina."

"Fine." The hand on his arm went to his shoulder, a coy shove sending him off. "Well, go on. Save the city, so I can get a good night's sleep."

"Good night." With a respectful nod, he took to the fire escape. "I'll see you again soon."

"Can't wait. Oh, and Bruce…"

She grinned as he looked back for a final time.

"Tell Damian his Auntie Selina says hi!"

* * *

Robin felt a strange shiver go down his spine.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He dismissed the feeling. "Let's focus on the mission."

"Okay," Nightstar's eyebrow rose, "But I'm starting to wonder if Batman assigned us this job to keep us busy."

"You call it busy work." They had already stopped a riot in progress and a break-in of a convenience store; the former caused by Mutants, the latter caused by someone who thought the villains would give him cover to steal. "I call it productive."

"I guess it helps when you have a reputation." While the former incident took force to stop, the attempted thief merely took one sight of Robin before he surrendered.

"You have yours, Mar'i," he told the darling of Jump City, "and I have mine."

**BANG.**

A gunshot sounded.

"And it looks like I'll need to use it again."

"After you."

In a nearby alley, a brown-haired man in his mid-thirties gripped his bleeding arm, questioning how things ended up like this. He only wanted to get home and stay away from Gotham's dangerous nightlife, but he got caught in it all the same.

The worst fact was that someone else accompanied him.

"Take what you want, but don't hurt my—UNGH!"

A fist cut his pleading short. Its owner wore a black jacket over a gray shirt, with brown work pants and boots. He was younger than his victim, barely twenty years old, wearing red visor sunglasses. "You right, spud! We take what we want!"

"DAD!"

A young boy with brown hair reached out and started to run, only to meet a kick from a second Mutant, wearing the same style of glasses and dress, but sporting a black mohawk. The child landed on his side, wincing in pain and fear.

"Shut up!"

The father took a few more punches from the Mutant standing over him.

The one standing by the shivering boy asked, "What we do with the brat, Zeb?"

Zeb grinned.

He revealed his pistol, dirty from disuse, "We shut him up."

His partner smiled back.

Neither realized that a certain hero heard their last suggestion.

"A _child?_"

Their countenances dropped at the words echoing through the alley.

Zeb gulped. "Who dat, Dax?"

"Don't know, Zeb."

"You were going to kill a _child?_"

A birdarang soared through the air and cut into his hand, forcing Zeb to drop his gun.

"Agh!"

Discarding reputation, Robin descended upon the Mutant like a bird of prey rather than his namesake, unleashing a flurry of blows that hurtled the man into the wall. He collapsed once the back of his head met the brick.

The other Mutant cut his losses. "I ain't with this!"

A starbolt to the head, with a more measured force than Robin's, sent him to the ground.

Descending, Nightstar watched as Robin walked to the boy still lying in the alley. He called out with a rare softness to his voice. "Are you alright?"

"No." When the young man's hand reached out to him, the boy cringed, fearful of another attack.

Robin realized the boy had seen his angered assault, and, for a moment, pulled away. His line of work had him come across plenty of children in similar or worse plights as this one, and each time, he felt his blood boil.

He could still remember one of his first missions abroad, where he and Batman came across a psychopath who wanted to make children into his own personal dolls.

* * *

_**A European girl, her soiled dress unable to conceal her emaciated frame, extended her hand through the bars of her suspended cage. The young hero froze as the girl's desperate, curious fingers approached. A fingertip hung just an inch from Robin's face…**_

* * *

The memory receded. That mission was long over, the children in a better place, the villain never to see beyond the bars of a cell again. Following Batman's teachings, Robin told himself then, as always: he was a tool of justice, not vengeance.

For the Mutant he left at the wall, it was rough justice.

For this child, however, he needed a softer approach.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." The boy wonder removed his hood. His eyes, while lacking pupils from the outside perspective, still sent his sympathy. "I just want to help you and your father, okay?"

Convinced that there was a person under the hood, the child delicately reached out his hand. Robin lifted him to his feet.

"I'm Robin. What's your name?"

"Robin, wow!" He had heard the name before; a figure of bedtime stories and legends stood before him in the flesh! "I'm Warren."

"Okay, Warren. I'll pick up your father, and you can get out of here."

"But he's bleeding!"

"It's not too serious." They stood next to him as he slowly returned to consciousness. "He's gonna be fine."

The father finally came back. "Warren…"

"Dad!"

The father hugged his son, bleeding arm ignored. Whether by luck, fate, or divine intervention, their family stayed together for another day.

"Keep pressure on that arm, sir. There's a clinic just a few blocks away that can help." Dr. Leslie Thompkins' clinic still ran to this day, though she had a bit of help in her advanced years. Robin turned to Warren. "You're going to have to be brave for him in the meantime. Can you do that?"

"Mmhm." Warren stood a bit taller.

"Let's go, son." The older man looked at Robin, feeling strangely smaller before the man half his age. "Thank you."

The hero nodded. "You can thank me by continuing to be a father."

With one hand over the wound and the other holding his son's hand tight, the man took off to the clinic, never to encounter a Mutant again.

Little Warren McGinnis would never forget that night, drawing pictures and telling everyone in school with a working ear. No one believed him, but he didn't care. He hoped that when he grew up, he could pay his savior back somehow… someday.

"That was… really sweet of you." Nightstar's heart warmed. She was worried about Robin's initial attack, but understood where it came from. He told her of the European adventure, but she never seen him act that way with a child before. "Good job, Robin."

"Don't praise me yet." He nodded his head at the groaning Mutant returning to the waking world. "There's still something we can do here."

Dax opened his eyes to meet the face of two heroes.

Robin was back in his element. "Hello."

"Batman's kid!" He would never know how accurate that statement was.

"I'm not a child." He'd lost count of how many times he'd said that phrase, just in Gotham alone. "Right now, I'm your only friend. The one you can tell all your secrets to."

"I'm not tellin' smack!" The criminal proclaimed. "Mutants are loyal! We thicker than blood!"

"Loyal?" Nightstar almost laughed at his blatant lie, when the man was making a run for it just minutes ago. "Is that right?"

She stepped forward. On guard for a moment, Dax slackened his posture when her hand grazed his cheek.

"Maybe I can help you reconsider?"

The thug got an eyeful of the brunette beauty, and he liked what he saw.

"Mmm! My kind o' nasty!" He licked his lips. "Do anything you want to me!"

Nightstar smiled.

"Anything?"

* * *

"…and dat's all!"

Dax's smile was long gone, left somewhere in the alley where they Zeb's body once lay—he was already handled. Nightstar's smile was still present though, giving off a mix somewhere between amusement and impatience.

"Are you sure that's everything?"

Robin observed the interrogation of the idiot currently in his partner's loving care. He could have done the job himself, but she deserved a turn in the lead.

Rather than wield her feminine wiles like a certain feline felon, Nightstar used her raw power to her advantage. Her hand crushing a piece of the ledge made the Mutant's will waver, but it was her most recent act that made his mouth run.

Robin had to admit:

_I like watching her work._

"No fib! No fib!" A tear slipped from his eye…

…and fell _down_ his forehead. It dropped off his body, plummeting three stories to a stop where his glasses previously shattered. The blood rushing to his head combined with the pallor of fear made for an interesting rosy shade on his face.

"I don't know, Robin. He _just _might be lying." The boy wonder's associate played along. "My arm sure is getting tired..." For good measure, she jerked her arm just a little to fake a weakening grip on the Mutant's leg.

His fright shattered his affectation, speaking like a common Gothamite. "I SWEAR TO GOD, THAT'S EVERYTHING I KNOW!"

"Good." Nightstar responded by not-so-gently tossing her captive onto the roof. After a period of realizing he was on (and subsequently kissing) solid ground, the Mutant rose to his hands and knees, catching his breath.

"Listen up," Robin commanded. "I don't have time to drag your criminal carcass around town anymore, so you're going to go to GCPD, and you're going to turn yourself in. If you don't, well…"

He stepped aside, allowing Nightstar to float in his place; the moonlight casted a shadow that smothered Dax's body and spirit. The fluorescent green glow in her eyes was all he could see.

She answered for Robin.

"We could always play again."

He whimpered.

"You're going?"

More whimpers, and a frantic nod.

She whispered a single word.

"Go."

Dax scrambled to his feet, sprinting off with a new zest for life.

Even if that life was one behind bars, his new home would hopefully be far, far away from who the young woman he'd describe to his future roommates as "the Bat-kid's crazy girlfriend."

"We have a location." Robin transmitted the message via the Bat Comm in his ear. "They're gathering at the dump. One hour."

"_Aww, and we were just in the middle of wringing some info out of this one."_

Elsewhere, Batgirl and Red Robin departed a weapon-filled warehouse, its contents now shrapnel with the help of some well-placed explosive gel. This was the second cache they had torn apart while Robin and Nightstar were on patrol. The information from Catwoman helped in finding the locations.

The Dark Knight Damsel currently had the sole conscious thug against a wall. Judging by her motions, she was probably listing the many ways she could hurt him with a Batarang. One of her hands went low, and Red Robin could only smile amused as the criminal's face went pale.

_I love watching her work._

Robin got his attention. _"What's going on?"_

"We've gotten some leeway with destroying some of the weapons, but he's a little slow with telling us about any other caches."

The Mutant could not see Batgirl's mouth, but could almost swear she was smiling under her mask.

"Just give me three minutes."

He gulped.

"_We'll get to them later,"_ Batman announced over the comm. _"We've dulled the limbs, now we go for the head. I'll meet you all there."_

"Got it." Red Robin cut the call.

"Until then." Damian finished back at the rooftop, but noticed Nightstar's brow furrow in thought. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He looked at her wordlessly.

"Okay, a little something."

"Go ahead."

"Is it…" She bit her bottom lip. "Is it weird that I thought doing that was… kinda fun?"

Robin smirked.

"Welcome to the family."

* * *

In the Gotham City Dump, a congregation formed. Approximately three hundred men and women, most bald and all wearing different shades of purple and brown, readied for war, pulling out assorted guns from a series of scattered crates. Most wore the same red visor glasses as the person they came to see.

Their general, their god, their Leader, stood in the center. He wore a dull purple suit jacket with no shirt underneath, and his pants were a dark shade of brown, like the filth on which the gang stepped. Suiting his position, he presided on high, perched on a throne consisting of a ravaged car seat.

Raising his hand, the group lulled to silence.

"They call us a gang."

The boos and jeers resonated off the piles of refuse, the Leader's makeshift amphitheater.

"They think we just kids! They think we just dregs!"

More boos.

"We are not a gang." A powerful arm raised high, a few scattered sounds of 'no!' responding to his wicked gospel. "We are so much more! We are an army! We are a revolution!"

The cries became clamors.

"We will storm the streets! We will smash the police headquarters to rubble, and rip Commissioner Bennett's head off his shoulders! We will carry it down every street to show all who oppose us!"

The eyes under his glasses swelled with his hunger for war.

"We will _kill,_ and kill, and kill, until they know that GOTHAM CITY BELONGS TO THE MUTANTS!"

The cheers shook the mountains of the literal wasteland. The war was coming, and they could hardly wait to win.

Suddenly, darkness. The lights across the dump ceased all at once.

"What's that, Rob?"

"Got me, Don."

The shadows spoke.

"Gotham isn't yours to take."

The Leader knew. It was only a matter of time.

"BATMAN!" He bared his teeth, a predator's yellow fangs visible in the moonlight. "Come out! Face me like a man! I'll beat you! Kill you! Eat out your heart!"

The old lights of the dump flickered back on. In an instant between darkness and light, Batman appeared in the center of the crowd, standing before the Leader.

The Dark Knight's cape split open, allowing him to put up his fists.

"I'm right here."

Several Mutants began to raise their weapons.

"It's the Bat!"

"Get him!"

"NO!" Their master commanded. With a single hand, he ripped off his jacket, baring his white chest to the autumn chill.

Black stood against white, age and experience against youth and ambition.

The latter's ambition gave him a new goal.

He wanted to make a legend die.

"He's all mine."

"Yeah!" One Mutant encouraged. "The Bat can't stop Leader! Leader better than everyone!"

"You sure, Rob?"

"You know, Don! The Bat berserk, come up fighting Leader! He dusted!"

Batman attacked first to prove them wrong. His first punch missed, but the second connected with the Leader's jaw, knocking the villain back from the force.

But it was only a step in retreat. Batman paused as he watched his opponent turn his head back with a smile.

"That ain't nothing!"

He returned fire, hammering the hero's guarding arms with what felt like twice the power. Batman ducked, but the Leader blocked the rising knee in time. The Leader blocked the subsequent kick to his right, jamming his fist into the hero's sternum.

Now the Caped Crusader felt himself forced back. Luckily, the bat on his chest was the thickest armor of his suit, but to the outside observer, the attack was no less painful.

"I hear them bones shaking, old man!" The Leader gloated. "You outta gas already?"

A burst of speed propelled a black fist into his glasses, which snapped and dropped into the dirt. The Leader growled.

Once more, Batman raised his fists.

"I'm not done yet."

More strikes came at the white-skinned beast in man's form, who seemed to absorb the attacks like a steel punching bag.

"Come on! Give it to me!" Batman gave him another shot to the gut—strong, but still not enough to down him. "I can take it all.

"But you?" The Leader sent a punch of his own, drawing blood from the hero's lip. "You OLD! You SLOW!" He scored another hit, this time to the left flank. "You can't beat me, or my army! With one word, my team will shut you down!" His sharp-toothed smile creased his skin. "No way you get us all!"

"You may be right. I've been at this for a long time, and I've learned when a fight is too much for one man." The aged crusader confessed. "I can't take you all alone."

He raised his right hand…

"But that's why I brought help."

…And closed it.

Explosions of smoke spread over the crowd, cries erupting within the clouds.

"GAH! I can't see!"

"I got him! I-YAAAH!" A hand yanked him further into the smoke.

"DANNY! What happened to Danny?"

"Dunno. I-_ungh!_" A staff descended, stopping his speech.

"It's the Bat!"

"Batman right there! ...Batman everywhere!"

"Some kinda ghosts!"

Batman smirked, his masked eyes drinking in the sight of their fear.

Times changed, but some things didn't.

_A superstitious, cowardly lot._

The smoke began to clear, bringing into view a foursome currently scattering the Mutants into disarray.

Batgirl was a phantom, gliding past opponents and leaving broken bodies in her wake. Her speed and ability to read opponents were more than a match for the wild bunch before her eyes.

Three of the Mutants decided to surround her, but she was ready. The front attacker went first, only to fly over her shoulder with a throw, and the left and right met a leaping punch and kick, respectively.

The thrown thug wasn't finished and sneakily pulled out a knife, but she had already seen his arm's movement, a desperate attempt to conceal. By the time he got into attack range, she had deflected his arm and sped forward, tripping a leg. With him off balance, it was no trouble to grab his face and take him to the ground. A solid punch laid him still.

She sighed, moving on to the next league of fools. "Not even a challenge."

Red Robin used a retractable staff to handle his foes, pain bursting from his enemies' arms and legs thanks to the staff's electrified tips. A spin of his weapon blocked a desperate spray of bullets from a Mutant's pistol; the criminal's resulting moment of surprise gave Red an opening to toss a Batarang and jam the weapon.

Unarmed, the Mutant froze for a moment. Red assumed he was weighing his choices. The former charged all the same, and the latter set to close in with a strike to the collar bone...

Until Robin leaped in and downed the villain with a flying kick to his face.

While skilled with a staff as well (Drake had actually caused him to improve due to the spars they had), Robin preferred a more personal touch, never afraid to get his gloves dirty. A few spots of blood evidenced that, left by a Mutant's mouth caught on Robin's knuckles just minutes before. That Mutant surprisingly knew how to box, and out of amusement, Robin played his game for a few seconds. Disappointingly, those seconds were all he needed; the Mutant had talent, but he hadn't gone up against masters, and his glass jaw proved it.

Red was not amused at his junior's interruption. "Really?"

"You were taking too long. I thought you might have needed my help." The boy wonder smirked. _"Again."_

"You're just going to hang that over my head forever, aren't you?" He thrust his staff to bring a Mutant to one knee, then slammed down from overhead.

"Probably." Robin stared at a crowd of gang members running for the weapons crates. "Unless you can keep up."

"As much as I'd love to wipe that smirk off your face," Red pointed out something in the sky, "I don't think I'll have to."

Robin followed his elder's gaze and saw Nightstar bombing the enemy from above. A rain of purple starbolts cut a line between the Mutants and the crates, before she charged a larger one to blast the crates into shrapnel.

Red whistled. "You gotta love watching her work, am I right?"

Robin's backhand knocked out a thug lurking behind. "Just get back in the fight."

"You brought your crew?" The Mutant Leader growled.

"Like you have yours. But if you're frightened, don't worry." Batman kept his eye on him. "They won't get between us either."

"Fine wit' me, spud." The criminal charged. "I can still kill you on my own!"

"Can you?" Batman took his opponent's outstretched arm for a throw, from which the Leader managed to recover. "I'm not quite as slow as you think." The Dark Knight demonstrated by flowing past the series of fists that came his way. "I've been testing your strength, your speed, and your endurance. Impressive, if not superhuman."

"Stay still!"

"But even you have weaknesses. For example…"

Batman dodged yet another swing, and returned with his own, cutting him across the forehead with a well-concealed Batarang in his hand.

"You can still bleed."

The trickle of blood in the villain's eyes was enough to distract. "What?"

A punch to the face, then another, gave the Leader cause to stumble. One hand tried to wipe off the blood while the other blindly swiped in retaliation.

"You're still human." This gave Batman yet another opening, striking the Leader's chest, then upper arm, with a precise finger jab. "And I know the human body."

"What you do to my-"

"I struck a bundle of nerves in your deltoid." Batman watched—with a small amount of satisfaction—as he struggled to lift the limb. "It's not broken, but you won't be attacking with that arm anytime soon."

The Leader flailed his arms, both working and deadened, as he defied his older foe. "You… you ain't beat me yet!"

"On the contrary, I already have." The Caped Crusader did not turn his own gaze, but still invited, "Look around you."

The Leader obeyed and his fanged jaw dropped. Many of the Mutants continued to dissemble into unconscious piles or pained wrecks, courtesy of the Dark Knight's squires.

"Feeling a bit alone without your men?" Batman inquired. "Don't be. You'll be joining them."

Still in awe at his impending failure, the Leader left himself wide open. His jaw rocked left and right as black-gloved fists made their mark. The gangster's own attempt at a punch met nothing, Batman already moving behind him. He grabbed around the Leader's waist and took him into a suplex, a combined four hundred pounds of man slamming into the trash. He quickly got around to the Leader's working arm, wrapped it into an armbar… and pulled.

Everyone in the dump heard the _**SNAP.**_

"AAAUUUGH!"

The Leader could only lay there as the Batman straddled his chest and rained down more blows.

Batman made sure to keep him awake, though. He needed to send a message. He drew the Mutant's soiled face toward his own, watching scarlet and dark brown layer over white.

"I want you to remember this. And I want you to tell everyone else." He called out to the gang's remains, those who surrendered intact or submitted from injury. "Gotham is _my_ city."

He got a moan in reply, from the pain and stubbornness.

"Say it."

"Gotham… is… your city!"

"And who beat you?"

Batman received silence.

He stood up…

Then let his black boot fall onto the Leader's arm. "AAAAUGH!"

"TELL THEM WHO BEAT YOU!"

"BAAAAATMAAAAAAN!"

"And who is _your_ leader?"

"B… Ba…" His spirit shattered. "Batman."

"Good answer."

A fist descended, knocking out the wasteland's king.

The last Mutants balked.

"He won!"

"Leader dusted?"

"Naw, Leader live!"

"He ain't no Leader! Batman Leader!"

"Batman! …Batman!... BATMAN!"

Soon the whole crowd applauded his rise; even those waking up from their knockouts began to follow the crowd.

"BATMAN! BATMAN! BATMAN!"

Robin rolled his eyes. _Pathetic sheep._

Batman, on the other hand, found an opportunity. "I'm your Leader?"

The rabble cheered once more. One Mutant raised his gun—Nightstar grabbed it out of his hand before he hurt himself.

"Fine."

The Dark Knight, now the Mutants' king, prepared his first decree.

"This is what you're going to do…"

* * *

"That was incredible."

In the kitchen of Wayne Manor, Mar'i helped Damian round up some snacks for the upcoming celebration. Cassandra and Tim split off from the group to set up the home theater room, while Bruce went off on his own to "handle some unfinished business," as he called it.

"I will admit," Damian prepared the first bowl of popcorn, "I never thought I would see the day when a gang cleaned up its own mess."

Batman's first order for his temporary minions was for the Mutants to dismantle their own operations—the remaining firearms were destroyed per the hero's no-gun policy. The second order was to discard the Mutant name and turn themselves into the police, awaiting further orders and a new name for their "gang."

Some were already painting Bat symbols on their clothes and faces with paint and dirt, much to Nightstar's stunned surprise (and to Robin's continued distress at the state of today's youth).

Only his breath control techniques prevented Red Robin from laughing as he witnessed the former Mutants pour by the dozens into GCPD; he wondered just what Batman would do with what the news media would soon call "Batman's new cult."

Batgirl was, like her brother, mildly disturbed. Like her father, she suspected his acolytes would become more trouble than they were worth.

Fortunately, that was why he had a _real_ team.

"I think we did pretty well together." Mar'i considered. "I'm glad I could find a place with them."

"I had a feeling you would. You adapt well to new challenges." He looked back over his shoulder to the girl sipping a soda from a can. "It's one of your better qualities."

"Oh?" She pressed him. "Do go on!"

"I don't believe I need to."

"I believe you do," she placed the can on the table at the kitchen's center, "since I also remember you never answered that question."

"The question. Of course."

He paused, the sound of popping kernels filling the space.

"If you really need to know, then I suppose I can make my own assessment."

He turned around from the cooker, letting his hand glide over the table as he approached.

"You were a powerful…"

Closer.

"…capable…"

Yet another step.

He whispered.

"…_beautiful _addition to this team."

A smile slipped out as the word caressed her ear. "I knew it."

He backed away, yet his own smirk seemed to reciprocate her smile.

"Is that a good enough answer?"

Her heart quickened when she realized just how close he was. If she moved forward, took the chance, she knew she would-

She gulped, and not from the soda.

"That's fine."

"Good." He placed a hand on her arm, bringing her back to Earth. "Go ahead to the theater. I'll handle this."

She murmured an "Okay."

Mar'i took a slow walk back to the home theater, thinking about how he could sway her emotions.

…_But I think I liked it this time._

She left her soda behind.

Damian stared on, before the light smile on his face dropped upon a realization.

"You can come out now, Drake."

"Always was hard to sneak up on you. And Cass, for that matter. You really should see if you two are blood-related." Tim finally revealed himself from the opposite door from which Mar'i left, not embarrassed in the slightest.

"What were you doing there? Eavesdropping?"

"Oh, I was just coming back to get something of my own, but then I heard your little moment! Now, I thought you'd be a complete mess, but you were actually a little smooth just now." He gave a thumb up. "I'm proud of you!"

"Don't be," Damian deadpanned. "You're not my father."

"Well, I'm gonna do something _my_ father did for me when I was little." Tim took up a seat at the counter. "Let me tell you a story."

"Why?"

"It's important, considering this thing you're going through."

"There's no 'thing.' And you do know the girls are waiting in the other room?"

"Don't worry, it's a short story, and…" he held a pause for drama, "it just so happens to be about a girl."

He ignored Damian's annoyed grunt, and began.

"Bruce never told you, but back before you, and before Cass, I knew this girl named Stephanie. She was one of us."

That actually did interest him. "A Robin?"

"No," Tim corrected, "a crimefighter."

Tim imagined her, clad in a purple hood and bodysuit, her blue eyes and blond hair standing out from the grey bandanna that served as a mask.

"She called herself the Spoiler."

"I'll guess," Damian jumped in, "because she spoiled crimes before they happened?"

"Got it in one," Tim praised. "Anyway, Steph was a lot like me—she wanted to fight crime, and worked her butt off to get strong enough to do it. She had a mouth and the skills to back it up… well, most of the time. Unlike me, though, she was a little too reckless."

"_Un_like you?"

Tim chose to ignore that remark. "It was a little early on in my career, you see, and I felt I needed to look out for a fellow rookie, so I did. One accidental run-in become two, and before I knew it…" He chuckled. "Batman figured out why I'd been out more than usual. He told me to stay away; that she'd be trouble."

"And you couldn't."

"I just hung around her even more. While I thought I was just watching her, she was changing me." He explained, "I was still hurting after losing my family, but Steph had this zest for life that I didn't quite have back then." He smiled. "She just... rubbed off on me.

"But like I said, she could be reckless. All the wins she racked up, and the ones we had together, they all got to her, I think. One night, she came to me with this big idea to take out a bunch of crime bosses at once. I told her she was crazy to do it without bigger muscle, but she didn't listen. She stormed off, told me I betrayed her."

His eyes stared down at the table.

"That was the last time we spoke in costume.

"The next time I saw her was in the hospital. Those scumbags got the drop on her and beat her to death's door." A tear nearly escaped, as his mind replayed the sight. His left hand was no longer on the counter, but at her bedside, almost reaching for her blond hair, before he stopped himself. "The injuries did the rest. The papers would never know what she did for this city, or know what she'd done for me."

The image vanished.

"After meeting Bruce, Stephanie Brown was the first person I'd ever really connected with, the first person I'd ever given my secret identity to. She was probably the first person I ever…"

He sighed.

"I always wondered if me being there, fighting by her side, would have made the big difference. I wondered if I'd ever feel anything like that again with anyone else…" He gave a tiny smile. "Well, until…"

"Until Cassandra?"

"Until Cassandra." He looked out the doorway, wondered if she was listening in. "But that's another, _longer_ story."

"That was a tragedy, Drake," Damian told, "but what does it have to do with me?"

Tim stared into his eyes. "I think you know."

The boy's face was a brick wall. "You tell me."

"Alright, I will, since you're playing dumb." The man pressed. "You and Mar'i. Your relationship."

"She's a trusted teammate and friend." His voice remained as stolid as his face. "I care about her, of course, but there's nothing going on."

"Nothing going on with the girl you mention in most of your talks with Bruce? Nothing going on with the girl you took all the way from the other side of the country just to meet us?" He grinned. "Nothing going on with the girl _you just flirted with_?"

Damian frowned. "That wasn't flirting."

"If that's not flirting, I'm the son of _you know who_." He put on a fake, disturbing smile, then dropped it.

The Titans' leader merely huffed. That wasn't funny, for multiple reasons.

"Look, what I'm saying is, I was lucky to find someone else in my life to heal that pain of being alone. I'm part of a family again." Tim appealed, "You know what that feels like, right? Finding family?"

"Yes," Damian admitted. He had his mother from the start, but she trained him mostly as a student, a fighter, the potential heir to the League of Assassins if he so wished to claim the role.

His father, stern as he could be, was different. Bruce trained him as a costumed hero, yes, but he also made more direct efforts to treat him as a son. It was why leaving Gotham City for Jump City—including leaving his "brother" Tim, not that he would ever admit it—felt like such a turning point.

"Your family's gotten bigger with the Titans, and it includes that girl in the other room. She treats you like you actually have a _heart_ in that chest of yours, instead of a block of ice. And I'm willing to bet she rubbed off on you, just like Steph once did for me."

Tim was right. Ever since a certain little girl in royal purple reached out to a serious little boy with her bag of chocolate cookies and an expectant grin, Mar'i Grayson had left a mark on Damian Wayne.

In his first days with his father, Damian had tried sneaking out of Wayne Manor a few times out of boredom, but that was alone. Mar'i was one of the first and few people he'd taken out _with_ him anywhere, including back _into_ Wayne Manor.

"You're probably wondering why you brought her, aren't you?"

"No. I know why, I think." Damian thought back. "She'd wanted to come for so long, and Grayson wasn't doing it, so I took charge. We didn't even tell him we were leaving." He gave a quiet amused chuckle at the image of Grayson's possible reaction. "I wanted Mar'i to…" Damian tried to articulate it, something he had failed to do the entire time, even from before he revealed his surprise to her. "…to understand where I came from, where both of us came from, in a sense."

He recalled her smile.

He wasn't lying when he said she was beautiful.

"I wanted to make her happy."

"Yep," Tim grinned, "she changed you alright." He reached for his junior's hair. "You're growing up!"

Damian grabbed his hand midway. "No way, Drake."

"Fine." The midair hand instead moved to his shoulder. "But you've got something good here, Damian. Just appreciate the time you have with her." His face grew serious. "You never know when it might be up."

Damian nodded silently.

_It won't be anytime soon. Not if I can help it._

"Alright!" Tim clapped. "Let's get the snacks and get out of here. The girls are probably wondering what's taking us so long!"

* * *

"What is taking them so long?"

Cassandra was normally a patient woman, but this was ridiculous.

"I don't know," Mar'i slouched on the couch. "I've had to set up for five before, including a girl with a crazy metabolism, but not even I've had to use this much time. Of course, I have super strength." She had a thought, sitting up from her seat. "So… you talked about Mr. Wayne, but what was meeting Tim like? What did you think of him?"

"It wasn't the best impression. I recall him being so easy to read." She frowned. "I could tell he was afraid of me. I don't completely blame him, though. From his perspective, I was a nameless, voiceless girl in his home who could literally kill him with her eyes closed."

"Yikes!"

"Exactly. Still, he tried anyway. He tried to get me to talk, to get me to open up, even though I didn't know how to do either. It wasn't fun seeing him with that frustrated look on his face.

"But when he and the others gave me that chance, they convinced me to reach out in return. They convinced me to work even harder. My predecessor and Bruce taught me sign language and how to read, and Tim…"

The past zoomed by in her mind: Tim, juggling apples in the dining room; Tim, balancing on a bannister, pretending to be a tightrope artist wobbling on his feet; Red Robin racing her on a rooftop, diving and flipping, sticking the landing with an awkward smile as he stumbled his way to first place…

She giggled. "He taught me how to laugh!"

She looked down to her hands.

"Despite who I was, what I've done, and even how I made him feel at first…"

Her hands came together, fingers interlocked.

"He helped me feel complete."

Her smile grew.

"It's just part of why, after all these years, I've never let him go."

"Wow." Mar'i sat awestruck by the emotion.

_She sounds like Mom talking about Dad._

_She must really-_

"And you?"

Mar'i snapped out of it, and confessed her own meeting. "Well, it was the other way around for me. I was afraid of Damian at first, but curious too. I kind of…" she searched for a less embarrassing word, "…watched him."

Cassandra saw through it. "Stalked him?"

"…maybe." She pleaded her case. "But he was such a mystery! The son of Batman! The boy who wanted my father's old name and mask! How could I resist? And he was so cool, and talented… and…"

"Cute?"

"YES! I mean…" Her eyes darted away. "Well, I guess this is awkward, you being his sister and all."

"Not at all," Cassandra dismissed. "He is cute."

"Ever since we met, I guess I never really _stopped_ watching him." Mar'i continued. "I know he tries to keep his emotions to himself. I know doesn't exactly jump for joy when he sees me, and you're the only girl I've ever seen him hug back, but still!" Her voice fell to a whisper. "I just can't keep away."

"I've been where you are, Mar'i. Even when I could read Tim, it took time to understand myself," Cassandra assured. "But don't worry—time will sort things out, and you'll come out better for it."

"Thank you."

"I'm just passing down the advice a certain someone taught me."

Cassandra hoped Barbara would be proud.

She went on. "And don't worry about Damian, either. Alfred says that we Waynes all share that trait." A bemused "hmph" escaped, another family quirk. "You're important to him, even if he never says a thing. He let you into our home for a reason."

That much Mar'i could figure out, "But what if… what if we're both too late? Our lives are dangerous sometimes." She had seen it first-hand as a child: "Even fatal."

"Isn't that why you're fighting, to protect the people you care about?"

"Of course."

"Then Damian is very fortunate. Even on the other side of the country, there's someone by his side, someone who's there for him."

"I am." Mar'i's hand went to her heart. "And I want to be."

"No matter what happens, _keep_ being there for him." Cassandra grabbed the hand with both of her own. "Keep watching over my little brother."

"I will. I promise!" The star child smiled. "After all…"

The boys entered the room, four popcorn bowls in hand.

She looked Damian in the eye.

"He's important to me too."

The boy only blinked.

"What're you girls talking about?" Tim sat his popcorn down slowly, but a few kernels still fell from the bowl.

"Just girl talk," Cassandra replied.

"I see we spared you from a horrible fate then."

Mar'i frowned slightly. "Not funny, Damian." All the same, she let him sit by her side, one bowl carried with him. She snatched up some kernels, reaching over his arm to get them.

She didn't move back in place, however, settling for placing her head on his shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow.

She smirked.

He merely gave a bemused "hmph," and stared ahead to the screen.

They and the older couple got comfortable as the title credits rolled.

Then Damian heard the music.

"You didn't."

Tim grinned. "Oh, I did."

"No…"

"C'mon, it's a classic!" The disk began to play. "_The Battlin' Bug_!"

Yes, _The Battlin' Bug_, a movie Tim had watched so many times in the manor, the entire family could recite the script. In fact, Tim was mouthing the narration now.

Damian sighed.

Drake could be downright insufferable.

"Mar'i?"

"Yes?"

"Please shoot me with a starbolt. Perhaps two, in my ears."

"Maybe…" she put a finger to the chin, "…after the movie, Damian."

The main character said his first quip; Drake laughed up a storm. "Man, that never stops being funny!"

Damian sank into the couch.

"Ugh…"

* * *

Back in the Batcave, Bruce Wayne waited for the call to be answered, one on a secret line going directly to the receiver. If his knowledge of time zones were correct—and it always was—she would be well awake by now.

The screen changed, and there she was.

Her brown hair fell to her shoulders. Her flawless toned skin hinted at Arabic heritage, and her powerful green eyes made any mortal man shrink before her gaze… all but one.

That man had earned a special name.

"Hello, Beloved."

"Hello, Talia."

Talia al Ghul, head of the League of Assassins, CEO of Lazarus Industries, the mother of the son of Batman, smiled in greeting.

"How goes the business?" Lazarus Industries was a pharmaceuticals company, using the scientific findings acquired by her father over the centuries to figure out an end to humanity's physical ails.

"Profitable, Bruce. We should find a cure for muscular dystrophy within the year." Her groomed eyebrow rose. "But that is not why you called, is it?"

"Of course not."

"Then, please…"

She readied her cup of finely brewed coffee in both hands, getting comfortable.

"Tell me the latest about our son."

**END**

* * *

**Since **_**The Batman **_**slightly informed my work with Bruce, I figured it might as well inform other parts of this Batman's timeline, and so came the installment of Ethan Bennett. Barbara Gordon's story? Well, she's on two feet, so… you imagine it how you want.**

**While Talia was Robin's mother, we all know Catwoman's had her place in the Batman mythos, and I couldn't leave her alone, so she gets a scene.**

**If you can't tell, the source of the villain (and some of the lingo) was the graphic novel/movie series **_**The Dark Knight Returns**_**.**

**I reasoned that the "Titans of Tomorrow" Batman would employ a different approach to fighting the Mutant Leader's gang since he had some advantages the DKR Batman lacked: Batman's not retired for a decade prior, and he's lucky/smart enough to have a team before going to fight a whole gang. Needless to say, it would turn the DKR Batman's canonical two-round fight into an easier one-round knockout for ToT Batman. Still, if you've watched the movie, you can even find some lines from it, tweaked here and there.**

**As for "the mission abroad" with Red Robin, you could read into that what you want, but there's a deleted scene I have with one possibility.**

_**The Battlin' Bug **_**is a movie based on a character from the DC Multiverse's Earth 8. Earth 8 uses pastiches of Marvel Comics characters, so I'm sure you can figure out who the Bug is supposed to represent.**

**That concludes the Gotham adventure, but there's more to come! Keep your eyes open for the next chapter.**

**Until then, Titanic readers.**


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